


If only I belonged to you

by Beej88



Category: Bishoujo Senshi Sailor Moon | Pretty Guardian Sailor Moon
Genre: F/M, Mamo/Usa Week 2020
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-25
Updated: 2020-08-03
Packaged: 2021-03-05 19:53:36
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 43,192
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25500925
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Beej88/pseuds/Beej88
Summary: What if the Senshi defeated the Dark Kingdom without triggering the reveal of the Silver crystal and Serenity and Endymion's memories? My fic for Usa/Mamo week 2020! Aged up, AU/Canon-divergent with tons of reveals and a-probably-going-to-be angsty-because-I'm-incapable-of-pure-fluff Mamo-Usa fic.
Relationships: Chiba Mamoru/Tsukino Usagi
Comments: 44
Kudos: 91





	1. Chapter 1

**A/N:** Hi, lovely readers! This is my contribution for Mamo/Usa week 2020! So, I've decided to take all of the daily themes proposed by the lovely Antigone2 (Who is awesome and hosting it this year) and create a fic. I guess this would be considered canon-divergent? AU? I'm not entirely sure, but it is set loosely during the Makai tree arc. Except I've aged them up and made it so that the Dark Kingdom didn't reveal Serenity and Endymion. It's a bit of a mish-mash, to be honest, but I hope I've made it clear in the fic. If not, let me know!

Shout out to the loveliest Bae-ta, **NinjetteTwitch,** who listened patiently while I blurted out the outlines to all of the chapters in this fic, then lovingly beta-ed this regardless of the fact that she is currently going through her own stuff atm. Thank you, girl! HEART YOU!

Day one was SilMil, so here it is! A sort of Prologue?

**Chapter 1 - Silver Millennium**

_**In which the Prince discovers the Princess** _

Serenity could barely contain her anticipation, silken, blonde ribbons of hair slipping across her shoulders as she shifted from one foot to the other. Slender fingers fiddled with the sheer curtains that were currently her only obstruction to the view of a lush, vibrant landscape outside.

Earth was by far her _favorite_ planet. She loved it even more than the cold, crystal caverns on Mercury, or the red-rocked canyons that looked like they were on fire as the sun set on Mars. She even loved it more than the polished, still perfection of the atmosphere on the moon of her _own_ home.

She couldn't put her finger on it, but something about Earth called to her. The Terrans, and the land they cultivated, were so full of _life_ , rooted in rich, earthy tones that took her breath away. Not to mention her fascination with the properties of the volatile oceans that could be still, calm, and then swell with violent riptides in the same breath.

Like the water that made up ninety percent of this planet, however, its people were just as unpredictable. Their leaders were often wary and borderline hostile. Especially because, though they were part of the interplanetary federation, they actively defied any invitation to join the Silver Millennium alliance.

Twice a year, all foreign dignitaries, monarchs, diplomats, Kings, and Queens met for an interplanetary summit. It was necessary, her mother had stated, that as sovereign over the entire Silver Millennium alliance, the Queen of the Lunarians was always to attend these meetings. It was imperative to keep lines of communication open, the political climate at a comfortable level, and maintain order within the vast array of people that she was to reign over someday.

A different monarch hosted every summit, and this was only the second time in her lifespan that Earth was selected to host due to their inhospitable views of Lunarians.

Still, despite what everyone said, Serenity adored Earth and the Terrans.

She'd _always_ accompanied her mother, with her dutiful Senshi sisters in tow, to every planet that the summit had been held. However, _this_ year was the first time that she would attend the conference standing by her mother's side.

The thought dimmed her excitement a little. Serenity worried her bottom lip between her teeth with all the implications of what that meant.

Not only was she taking on her training to be Queen in an official capacity, but it also meant that she needed to put an end to her clandestine, summit rendezvous with the handsome, dark-haired man that she'd been meeting with ever since he'd rescued her from a swirling sandstorm on Jupiter all those years ago.

They only ever met twice a year at the summits, premeditating their next meeting spot based on which planet the upcoming summit was to be held. She'd only missed meeting him once when Saturn experienced a natural disaster that uprooted their people and forced the next one to take place on Mercury mid-year, and last minute, instead.

She'd despaired, devastated that she'd never see him again. It was only by pure happenstance that she'd glimpsed him in the crowded market place, illuminated by a thousand glittering floating fairy lights overhead on the permanently darkened planet of Pluto the following year.

He'd whispered in her ear when he'd enveloped her in his arms, clearly just as relieved to see her as she was him, that maybe the time of keeping their identities to themselves was over? That perhaps, after all of these years, they should stop playing these guessing games and reveal who they were.

Serenity swallowed, her throat feeling constricted by the emotion elicited by that particular memory. She'd been tempted. So _very_ tempted. But in the end, she couldn't bear the thought of losing him, even for their short interludes, and she would have if he'd known that she was the reigning Princess of the Silver millennium alliance.

So, it remained the way that it was; every year, twice a year, she met with the boy that grew into a man almost right before her eyes. Mired in mystery, he'd whispered his name in her ear on that fateful day on Jupiter, when they were just kids.

Even then, his words were like velvet as he'd uttered the name Dimi, though he faltered in a way that she knew made it false. It hadn't mattered, and Dimi, whose parents were more than likely high-ranking diplomats attending the summits, too, became her obsession. Their whirlwind romance was _inevitable_.

She was drawn to Dimi like she was drawn to Earth. He was full of life and a raw magnetism that pulled her in and drowned any sense that she might have had otherwise.

_How was she going to give that up?_

Blinking back tears, Serenity stepped away from the window, her soft cloth slippers soundless on the glistening marble floor of the polished, carved beauty in the suite that she'd been temporarily assigned to share with her Senshi.

She'd confided and lamented endlessly with the girls, who were sworn by duty to protect her life, though really, their loyalty came from a place of love.

Though each girl had approached her dilemma with sympathy and their own brand of logic, they'd all unanimously agreed. She needed to end this thing now before she officially became her mother's shadow, molding her into all of the things that made her a princess, and grooming her to be the Queen that she secretly dreaded becoming, though she didn't dread it as much as she did her final meeting with Dimi.

She sniffled, curling her fingers into the white silk that ruched elegantly across her chest, trying fruitlessly to curb the ache of sorrow piercing her heart. Usually, time seemed to crawl by slowly before she was able to duck away, heart thumping with anticipation as she carefully navigated her way to where they'd agreed to meet. This time, though, time was moving quickly, _too_ quickly, and she couldn't fathom that soon this would be over.

"Serenity?" The fretful Moon Princess started at the soft, dulcet tone of Aphrodite's voice. She swiveled around to face Sailor Venus, the orange-clad Senshi who was poised in the doorway. "I've distracted the guards. It's time for you to go now."

Serenity swallowed, nodding through a vision blurred with unshed tears, and Aphrodite tilted her head to the side, her expression pained, eyes glistening with compassion as she held out her hand, beckoning her forward.

Serenity stumbled, and Venus inhaled sharply, dashing forward to steady her. "Oh, Serenity," she breathed sadly, cradling the side of her face, expression fraught with sorrow as she swiped the gloved pad of her thumb to wipe away an errant tear. "I'm so sorry, but you know that this is for the best. You have responsibilities, and you can't afford to be distracted by romance."

She knew this; of _course_ she knew this. Knowing didn't make it hurt any less, though, and she wished more than anything that she could have been someone else, a _nyone else._ Just a girl, maybe a Terran, that could have been with someone like Dimi.

She nodded, not trusting herself to speak, then mustered her strength to push aside her sadness.

The corners of Aphrodite's lips curled up into a sad smile. "If I could take your place, if I could permanently decoy as the princess, you know that I would."

Again, Serenity nodded, so grateful for her friend. "I know," she whispered, the sound harsh, roughly edged with barely restrained emotion. "I'm ready. I know what I must do."

Aphrodite impulsively leaned forward, pulled her into a hug, and Serenity clenched her eyes shut and pulled strength from the embrace.

When they broke apart, she mustered all the determination and poise that had been hard-pressed into her disposition over the years. She was a flurry of silver as she pulled her coarse, wool-spun cloak more tightly around her shoulders and slipped out of the door and past Jupiter, who was distracting her personal guard.

She wished that the maelstrom of emotion in her heart would calm for a moment so that she could marvel at how incredibly green the grass was, or how wild and untamed the copse of cherry blossom trees were. Instead, she saw the deepening blue of the sky and was reminded of his eyes and how tonight would be the last time she'd be able to look into them.

oOo

Dimi had been the one to suggest this place, and Serenity hadn't opposed as she was not familiar with Earth or the area surrounding where the tedious, day-long conferences were being held. She wasn't sure if she was in the right place, but it was exactly as Dimi had described it, and for a moment, Serenity was utterly enthralled by her surroundings.

No place in the galaxy could possibly compare to the spectacular opulence that was this secret oasis of beauty.

Shaded by a towering canopy of trees dotted with purple flowers, mid-bloom, that perfumed the air, she waded through thickets of foliage, swept aside vines of ivy, stepped over moss-covered rocks until she stood at the very edge of a babbling brook.

The sound of the water swiftly churning was simultaneous with the birds' chirping, tiny creatures that she'd only ever seen on this planet with delicate bones that could spread feathered limbs to fly. They _fascinated_ her.

She was so enamored with how the setting sun sent slivers of orange and gold through the leaves, illuminating the water in such a beautiful way, that she didn't hear him approach until his arms encircled her waist. He gently pulled her towards him, and she went willingly, until her back was flush against his chest. The fabric of her cloak bunching up against his tunic.

Instantly, she felt safe, comfortable, and she couldn't help but melt against him, eyelids fluttering shut with an involuntary soft sigh of relief. She was practically trembling when his lips brushed across the shell of her ear, his palms sweeping through the opening of her cloak, bunching the silken fabric of her dress as they settled on her abdomen.

"Do you know, I think I've figured it out," he whispered huskily against her ear, his warm breath fanning across her cheek, rustling the soft baby curls that lined her temple. "You're definitely Venusian."

She chuckled breathily, leaning her head back into the hollow of his collarbone, curling her fingers around his. This was bliss, and for a moment, she forgot that she was here to say goodbye.

"Oh, yeah?" she replied, her voice trembling as he tilted his head and brushed his lips across the curve of her jaw. "What makes you think that?"

When he laughed, the sound low and husky, her knees practically buckled as his roving hands crept upwards, exploring the curves of her waist before he firmly gripped her hips and twisted her around to face him.

She inhaled sharply, heart fluttering, pulse quickening at the shockingly intense look in pools of cobalt blue that were currently consuming her. His gaze hungrily swept over her face as if he was a man dying of thirst, lost in the brimstone sand desert on Mars, and she was the only water in sight.

He cradled the side of her face, the pad of his thumb tracing the edge of her cheekbone. She hoped that he couldn't see the ivory-colored makeup that Mercury had carefully applied to the moon crescent symbol on her forehead. It had appeared overnight, marking the beginning of what would be her ability to wield the Silver Crystal and become the Queen she didn't want to be.

"I've heard Venusians are notorious for their abundance of breathtaking blondes," he replied, the corners of his lips quirked up into that teasing, adorable smirk that made her heart skip a beat. "I can most definitely imagine that you are one of the many Venusian cousins related to the Princess of love."

She could tell by his doting expression that he wasn't serious. He didn't honestly think she was Venusian, and this was a guessing game that they always played. Still, it only reminded her that her golden blonde hair would inevitably start to fade, glimmer into the staple Silver color of the Moon heiress. It wrenched her heart so painfully that she had to turn away so that he wouldn't see the tears welling in her eyes.

She heard him inhale sharply behind her as she stepped out of his embrace and closer to the edge of the water. The bright, vibrant oranges, reds, and the glimmering gold that had reflected off of its surface only moments ago began to fade as the world seemed to dim, bathed in the darkness of dusk, as the rising luminescent glow of her Kingdom began to cut through the leaves.

She crossed slender arms across her chest, chilled suddenly, as she tilted her face up and fixed her gaze on the moonlight above. "You never know, Dimi," she whispered, her voice resonating above the sound of the rushing water. "I might be Terran, and this might be my planet."

He was silent for a moment following her whispered, wistful statement, and she felt the air shift behind her when he took a step closer. "You're not Terran, Ren," he replied, a confused edge laced into his tone. "I know that you aren't."

She didn't question how he could possibly know that for sure, because she knew, suddenly, that _he_ was Terran. It only made sense that he would reside on the planet that she loved most in this entire galaxy.

"I wish that I was," she rasped, brokenhearted, the words spilling from quivering lips without a second thought. "I love this planet. It's so beautiful."

For a couple of moments, they didn't speak, and Serenity felt the tension shifting between them. When she risked turning, cloak, and silk rustling around her, he was watching her, eyes glinting in the moonlight, lips pressed into a firm, determined line.

"What if…" he faltered, squared his shoulders, and cleared his throat. His expression was vulnerable, filled with desperation when his gaze met hers. "What if I told you _I_ was Terran, and I was asking you if you would stay here. With me."

Serenity's breath caught in her throat, and she froze, paralyzed by his confession because she _wanted that._ She wanted to stay here with him so badly it hurt. She couldn't, though. Somewhere, in the depths of the cosmos, from the literal cauldron of life, she'd been plucked and hand-chosen to be the Princess that she was.

She didn't have a choice. She'd never had a choice, and these secret meetings were just an illusion of free will that she didn't actually possess.

"Oh, Goddess," she choked. "Dimi, _I can't._ I just _can't."_

The whimper that bubbled up her throat and spilled from parted pink lips tore through the quiet of the small clearing. Her vision blurred, and the tears that slid down her cheeks only multiplied when she glimpsed the way his expression crumpled with the devastation she'd unwittingly caused him.

"Ren," he rasped, framing her face, calloused palms rough, and comforting against the smoothness of her cheeks. "Why not? I don't care who your parents are, or what planet you come from. If you stay, I can make this work." He leaned forward, pressed his forehead against hers, brushing his lips across the bridge of her nose. " _Please,_ Ren," he pleaded in between butterfly kisses across the tops of tear-stained cheeks.

For one final moment, Serenity gave in to what she wanted so badly it was thrumming through the blood in her veins. With everything she possessed, her love for him, her desperation, the vibrating broken pieces of her heart, she propelled herself forward, curled her arms around his neck and crushed her lips against his.

She wasn't sure who moaned; it could have been her; it could have been him. All that mattered was that her mouth was molded perfectly to his and when he deepened their kiss, tongues tangling, his fingers roughly gripping her thigh, hoisting it around the sharp edge of his hip, she couldn't breathe, _she was drowning._

It took every ounce of willpower that she possessed to tear away from him, lips swollen, hair mussed, eyes wild, and filled with tears of grief.

"I'm so sorry," she choked, heart wrenching at the way his eyes widened, lips parting on a sharp intake of breath because he _knew._ He knew that she was saying goodbye. "I love you, but I _can't_ see you again."

He reached out as if to pull her into his arms, but she'd already swirled out of his embrace. "Wait, Ren—"

She didn't let him finish. She _couldn't_. Instead, heart in her throat, her soul in tattered ruins, she _fled._ More graceful and swift than she'd ever managed, the oasis a fading blur that disappeared just as quickly as the beacon of hope in her heart that only shone brightly when she was with him.

oOo

As a general rule, Lunarians were typically less strict about their wardrobes. Serenity couldn't even fathom burying herself in yards of material, covering her body from her chin to her toes. She was eternally grateful that Lunarians preferred lightweight fabrics like silk and chiffon, and while on the Moon, she never would have considered her choice of attire immodest, here, on Earth, she had to admit. She looked positively scandalous.

Her Senshi, in the short pleated skirts of their sailor fukus, even more so. Serenity didn't miss the narrow-eyed looks of shock, and in some cases, _disgust_ from the Terrans that crowded around the pathway that led to the hall in which the first conference would be held.

Serenity had never felt ashamed before, but her cheeks flushed, and she couldn't help the way her trembling fingers tugged on her bodice, pulling it up higher.

Her mother stopped, halting the procession, tapered fingers lightly settling on Serenity's hand to still her fretful movement. Her eyes widened, breath in her throat, when she met her mother's lavender-tinged gaze, with a wide-eyed, confused look of her own.

The Queen smiled; her expression softened in a reassuring way that made Serenity exhale some of the tension corded into her shoulders.

"Serenity," she chided gently. "You relinquish your self-agency when you let the actions or perceptions of others determine your self-worth. Stand tall, stop fiddling with your gown, and remember to remind yourself that you do not owe an ounce of your self-esteem to anyone we encounter today."

Serenity straightened, tilted her chin up, and nodded curtly. Her mother was right. She was going to be a Queen. She was going to lead and guide these people into what she hoped would be another long era of peace one day. There was no room for her insecurities.

The procession continued, and she blinked, hands clasped together tightly as they stepped into the dimly lit archway that swept up into majestic vaulted ceilings and welcomed them into a carefully arranged room with a diverse and vast array of people.

The conversation in the hall quieted the instant that they entered.

Serenity was accustomed to this. She'd witnessed the impact the Lunarians carried proudly when they entered a room. Her Senshi, a part of an elite group of warriors with the ability to wield the gifts of elemental powers from their respective planets, was a sight to behold on their _own_. Still, she couldn't help but wish that she didn't feel so suffocated by the burden that the glistening moon insignia on her forehead carried.

Serenity sucked in a shuddering, nervous breath, forcing one foot in front of the other, inwardly repeating her mother's words in her head. She was a princess. She had responsibilities. She _could do this._

So why, then, was her heart racing, her palms sweaty, while everything in her resisted attending this meeting because she just couldn't accept her role with the grateful deference that was expected of her?

When they moved further into the cavernous stone hall, all that she wanted to do was stop and marvel at the fascinating details carved into the towering stone pillars that lined the walls, or indulge in the strange but divine smelling assortment of puff-like pastries lining cloth-covered wooden tables. Or even try the plate of strange food that looked like tiny green trees, the only thing on the table that was left untouched.

Why was it that all she wanted to do was peel her gown down to her silk shift, shed the gold trappings that clearly marked her for a princess, and flee from this hall and into Dimi's waiting arms?

She swallowed, the thought of Dimi still fresh and painfully raw in her mind as she forced herself back to the present, pressing aside the pain that welled automatically in the form of tears in the corners of her eyes.

She blinked them back quickly, surprised that she still had tears left after she'd spent the night and the early hours of the morning, curled up in Aphrodite's arms, shedding them.

She composed herself quickly and forcibly continued onward with her mother. As was customary, the Lunarians were to greet their gracious hosts first. Or, in this case, their _not_ so gracious and silently _resentful_ hosts, as their party pressed past the Venusian and Pluto diplomats towards the raised dais in which currently housed the King, Queen and crowned Prince of Earth.

In hindsight, Serenity should have known that her break from Dimi was going to be much more complicated than a broken heart. She'd already gathered that she would never recover from having loved and lost him, but when she tilted her chin up, still inwardly lamenting her losses, there was nothing on this Earth that could have prepared her to come face to face with him in the middle of this _crowded_ hall.

She froze, her heart skipping a painful beat in disbelief when their eyes locked. The expression on his face was just as stunned and confused as hers.

She parted her lips on a sharp intake of breath, any words that she might have said tangling up on her tongue and sticking to the roof of her mouth in what could have been almost comical if not for her current predicament.

It took a moment before it fully registered that Dimi, her secret lover, the man she'd been meeting under cover of secret identities and a multitude of disguises for _years_ , was, in fact, the _Prince of Earth_.

Her lips went numb, her heart stopped, and it felt like she could hear the blood rushing hotly in her ears. She barely caught the King's introduction or the way his ice-cold eyes condescendingly swept over her mother, then her, with a barely restrained snarl on thin lips.

Serenity's eyes widened because it occurred to her, quite suddenly and painfully, that the Terrans _hated_ the Lunarians. _Oh, Goddess._ The Terrans, and by extension, _Dimi,_ had been raised to _hate_ the Lunarians.

When her gaze swept back onto Dimi, he seemed to have recovered because his expression was guarded, his gaze averted as he stood proudly, and stoically beside his father and mother, who could barely contain their unfettered resentment.

In every single version that she'd imagined perhaps seeing Dimi again, _this_ hadn't even crossed into the potential realm of _possibilities_. She clearly wasn't as practiced in hiding her emotions as Dimi seemed to be — _or had the King introduced him as_ _Endymion?_ This became evident when her mother cleared her throat, and Mercury nudged her from behind.

She froze, her eyes frantically flitting from her mother's expectant gaze, the Terran King and Queen's sneering expressions, and _Dimi,_ who was looking _through_ her, giving absolutely _nothing_ away.

Had they said something? Oh, Goddess, _had she missed something_?

In preparation to attend this summit, she'd spent hours practicing and learning the proper etiquette in dealing with the Terrans in an official capacity. Her mother had stressed that the Terrans, given their hostility, were to be handled with the utmost care in order to maintain a modicum of peace and civility. This summit, in particular, marked a very important moment. Not only would the Terrans be hosting, but tentative discussions, in which they were potentially going to welcome Earth under the protection and laws governed by the Silver Millennium alliance, were to be broached at this conference.

She'd been _so_ prepared for this. So confident that she wouldn't fail.

She'd practiced her greeting, her curtsy, and all of the complex talking points that would highlight the intelligence and benefits of joining the Lunarians until her throat felt raw from _speaking._

How could it be, in all of the galaxies, that she would fall in love with the one person that would have the ability to make her forget all of _that_? The _one_ person that could not and _would_ not ever belong to her? Then to have to meet him here, under these circumstances with the knowledge that now that he knew what she was, _who she was,_ he would more than likely _hate_ her for it?

She opened her mouth, choking on her words, practically trembling in her despair at the disconcerting thought.

It was Dimi, in the end, who rescued her from that terrifying, heart-wrenching moment as he, in an unprecedented act in the history of angry Terran monarchs, took a step _down_ from the dais to stand in front of her.

There were hushed whispers that rippled throughout the room, a discontented tension settling in the air, and she didn't need to look at her mother to know that the perfectly smooth alabaster skin of her brow was currently creased into a disapproving frown.

Regardless, Serenity's gaze remained locked with Endymion's, and there wasn't a hint of the warmth that she was accustomed to seeing reflected in his expression every time they'd met. The only movement that gave away any modicum of emotion was in the subtle way he momentarily lifted his eyes to glance at the Moon symbol that was now permanently etched into her forehead.

Her heart broke, and she valiantly fought back her tears when he bowed in a respectful, _polite,_ and utterly distant manner. When he lifted his head again, his eyes fixed onto hers, the intensity in them took her breath away.

"Welcome to Earth, Princess Serenity."

It was only a moment, and only five whispered words, but Serenity was devastated by the betrayal she was sure she heard laced in them.

When he stepped back onto the dais to stand beside his parents, it was as if the world resumed around her. The proverbial bubble that had belonged to Dimi and Ren permanently popped, leaving her bereft, lungs twisted up in her chest and unable to focus on anything else that preceded that horrible, heartbreaking moment.

She hadn't even _responded, probably_ broken a hundred rules rooted in tradition, and more than likely managed to further enrage the high-ranking Terrans that were watching them.

It was only when Venus pulled her away to follow after her mother, who'd probably covered for her with the poise and elegance she was renowned for, that Serenity finally snapped out of her daze.

" _What was that?"_ Venus hissed in her ear. "Are you _all right_?"

She could only shake her head, tendrils of hair whipping across her face with the movement in response. When they reached their designated seats, beautiful pieces with detailed silver designs etched into the silver backrests; she finally risked glancing up at her mother.

Serenity fought back the urge to grimace when their eyes met, and hers were filled with cool concern. She only graced her with a momentary glance before flicking her gaze to Venus, who stood tensely by her side.

"Venus, please escort my daughter from the room." Serenity flinched, swallowing past the lump of emotion in her throat at the harshly edged tone in her voice. When her mother's eyes slid back onto her, Serenity could clearly see the reproach in them this time. "Serenity, go and collect yourself. When you return, I expect that you will do your utmost to present yourself in a manner that is befitting the Princess that you are."

Serenity nodded, still unable to speak, her cheeks flushed in embarrassment. Just as she turned away, Venus comfortingly grasping her wrist, her mother stopped her, carefully scrutinizing her face.

"Later, when this is over, you _will_ explain to me what it is that transpired back there."

With another nod, her cheeks burning hotly, she let Venus tug her through the crowd whose hushed, reproachful whispers slid over her. She was humiliated enough that she kept her gaze downcast, her steps hurried as Venus carved a path for her, harshly threatening to whip through some guards that stood in their path with her love chain if they did not step aside _now_.

She only realized that she'd forgotten to breathe when Venus led her onto a private terrace with a view she would have marveled at if not for the devastation currently rippling through her like the riptides of the oceans she so admired.

"What happened back there, Sere?" Venus demanded, running gloved hands over Serenity's arms, brows knit as she swept her eyes over her in consternation. Probably looking for some type of injury or defect that would have caused her to ruin everything that the Lunarians had worked so hard for in one single, ill-fated moment.

It was starting to register now, the reality of what had just transpired finally settling, and Serenity gasped out loud, unable to suppress it as her fingers flew to her chest, fabric twisting in her clenched fist as she tried to wrap her head around what she'd done, what she'd lost, and what she was going to do now.

She swallowed, vision blurred with tears when she met Venus's stunned gaze. "Can I…" she croaked, halting to lick her lips that suddenly felt as dry as her throat that was currently constricted with pain. "Aphrodite, can I just have a moment alone, please?"

Venus frowned, hesitant, and Serenity inhaled sharply, wiping away the tears that finally slid from her eyes.

" _Please_ ," she pleaded. "Just a moment."

Venus's expression fell, softening with sympathy before she relented, nodding in acquiescence. "All right, Sere," she agreed. "Only for a moment. I'll be just inside."

Serenity nodded, not bothering to watch her retreat as she swiveled around, dashing towards the white limestone balustrade that was the only barrier that prevented a twenty foot fall into sweeping, awe-inspiring rose gardens.

This felt impossibly unbearable, and she would have done anything at that moment to change her fate; to become nobody. Goddess, What she wouldn't give to be a normal Terran girl. Someone that might have caught Dimi's eye, whose soul was so much more than the crowned prince that had stood so terrifyingly regal on the dais with his resentful parents.

She inhaled, curled her fingers around the smooth, cool to the touch, railing, leaning into it, eyes clenched shut, shoulders slumped miserably as she desperately tried to ground herself.

She could do this. She _could._

She wasn't sure how she caught the sound of rustling fabric behind her, given how incredibly lost she was in her tortured thoughts, but she exhaled, sighing with resignation.

"Aphrodite, please," Serenity pleaded. "Can I have a bit longer? I promise I'll only be a moment more."

When her friend didn't respond, Serenity's eyelids fluttered open, her brow knit into a frown as she slowly lifted her head. It was unlike Aphrodite to remain silent, and she twirled around, confused, then froze when it was not her orange-clad Senshi standing on the terrace with her, but _Dimi_ instead _._

He would have had to leave the hall filled with all of the leaders and diplomats of the galaxy only _moments_ after she had. There was no way that would have gone unnoticed, and if she were the careful, poised, perfect Princess that she tried so hard to be, she would have considered that. At that moment, though, it _didn't even cross her mind._

Because Dimi was beautiful, he was so beautiful it _hurt._ Every time that they'd met, he'd worn the tunics popular on Mars, or the tightly cinched suits that protected the people from Jupiter's nauseous gases. She'd _never_ seen him like this, garbed in black plated Terran armor, the thick, heavy-looking fabric of a black cape sweeping over his broad, squared shoulders.

It was as if she was seeing him in a different light. He was the Prince. He'd been taught to hate her. She'd been taught to be wary of him, and dear Goddess, _none of that mattered._

She loved him _even more_. She would never stop, and she'd been a _fool_ to think that there was any possibility that she could.

Her knees buckled, and she fell back, clutching at the balustrade to steady herself, and then to support her weight.

"Dimi," she rasped, heartbroken, _desperate_. Could he ever forgive her for what she was? "I'm sorry. I didn't know. I should have—" she choked, heart thumping erratically in the cavity of her chest. "You have to know if I could be _anyone else—"_

She was lost, blurting out the poorly crafted apology, when he interrupted her by striding forward, quickly closing the gap between them, the intensity in his stare overwhelming as he halted barely inches from her.

She sucked in a breath when he leaned forward, one hand curling over hers on the railing, caging her in. It was a cage she would gladly remain trapped in _forever._

She blinked, confused, her lashes laced with tears when he wordlessly lifted his hand, and with all of the tenderness in the world, traced the moon symbol on her forehead with the tip of his index finger.

"Ren," he whispered, his tone edged with a harshness that could only be elicited by the intensity of his emotions that were mirrored perfectly in her. " _Princess Serenity."_

She whimpered, the sound involuntary, because he didn't say it with the accusing, angry tone that she'd imagined so painfully in her head. He'd whispered her name with a reverence that made her legs quake and sent shivers rolling down her spine.

When his gaze slid from the symbol on her head to meet hers, she could have sobbed with relief. There wasn't hatred burning in the deep, bottomless pools of his eyes. It was something else. It was something so achingly deep and tender she couldn't breathe.

"It doesn't matter, Ren," he rasped brokenly. "I don't care. I want to be yours. _Please."_

It was these words that broke through the final barrier that she'd kept up so valiantly—shielding herself to protect all of the things bred into her that she _didn't want to be_. She didn't want to be the _Queen_ , or the _Princess_ , or _anything else_. She didn't want the Moon Kingdom. She wanted Dimi.

She thought nothing of the consequences, and neither did he when she curled her arms around his neck and slanted her lips across his with a desperation that was deeply rooted into the core of her soul. He was like a man possessed with his need for her as he tore at her dress, palming her thighs, hoisting her onto the railing so that she could comfortably cradle his hips between them without breaking their kiss.

This was the first moment that ended it all. Toppled the empire that everyone had spent so much time trying to protect. There was no way that they could have taken it back, and even when Venus stepped back onto that terrace to retrieve her, gasping in disbelief, she couldn't pull away from him.

She would never be able to pull away from him again. At that moment, she realized without an ounce of fear that her fate didn't belong to the cosmos. It would forever be intertwined with his. The fact that she was a Princess was irrelevant. She was just a woman. _Just Serenity_. And they were meant to be together _forever_.

oOo


	2. In which we set the scene with a love square

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: hi lovely readers! thank you So much for the beautiful reviews favourites and likes on my first prologue chapter! In order to make this a coherent multi chaptered fic, I did have to switch the days around a little bit, so I have opted to use the free day in place of the sailor moon and tuxedo mask day for today!
> 
> As Always thank you to my beautiful bae-ta ninjettetwitch for reviewing this chapter for me despite everything. Hope you like this!

**Chapter 2- Freeday**

**In which we set the scene with a love square**

She jolted awake, the shrill sound of the latest K-pop hit blaring on full blast. This had seemed like a good idea at the time that she'd set this particular alarm. Who didn't like to wake up to the sound of their favorite upbeat song? Right now, though, Usagi groaned, tugging her pale, practically threadbare, purple comforter over her head, burying her face into the downy softness of her pillow.

Her blanket was old, the weathered material scratching at the skin of her cheek, but it was her favorite, and she'd made a point to tote it from her parent's house to the apartment that she now shared with her fellow Senshi, and one of her very closest friends, Aino Minako.

She wouldn't be able to fall back asleep now, and her phone, and it's blaring tune, was purposely set on her vanity table on the other side of the room, which would effectively force her to stand up and turn it off.

With a sigh of resignation, inwardly mourning the hazy comfort of her dreams, she flung the blanket from her body, kicking at it with all the drama of a petulant child that she was no longer supposed to be.

She immediately regretted her exaggerated movements, wincing at the throbbing ache that twisted through sore, bruised limbs.

Crinkling her nose in dismay, she craned her neck to glare at the brooch that contained the power of her Sailor Moon henshin, carelessly tossed onto her side table after last night's particularly stressful battle with a purple-faced Cardian.

Admittedly, she was a little bit rusty. Even more so than the other Senshi, her friends, who'd always possessed more grace than she had, _anyway._

With a long-suffering sigh, she slowly sat up, groaning as she stretched the kinks out of her poor aching arms. Despite the sharp reproach laced into Luna's tone after their latest encounter, she was still relatively proud of what she'd accomplished.

She'd managed to dust that pesky Cardian with her tiara in the end, hadn't she?

Sure she'd fallen once or twice, but they hadn't faced an enemy since they'd successfully defeated Beryl and the Dark Kingdom. She hadn't _really_ needed to fight as Sailor Moon since they'd obliterated the angry red-haired witch of darkness right before she'd managed to unleash chaos when Usagi was just a frazzled, clumsy kid in junior high school. All things considered, with this new enemy appearing out of _nowhere,_ she was managing reasonably well.

Swinging her legs over the edge of her small double-bed, Usagi stood, already feeling better, to get ready for work.

The apartment was quiet as she stumbled through her morning routine, still feeling sleepy. She half-heartedly brushed her teeth, barely taming her glistening golden locks into the comforting, signature twin-bun style she preferred the most.

Minako hadn't come home after the Cardian battle, having spent the night with her latest beau just over in Shibuya after a last-minute photoshoot that she hadn't been able to turn down.

She wasn't expecting Minako home for a couple of days, at least. So when she twirled, humming, into her bedroom, wrapped in a fluffy pink towel, she was startled, squeaking, as she practically tripped over Luna, who must have, at some point, slipped in through her bedroom window.

"Gah!" Usagi exclaimed, barely catching herself and her towel from slipping as she stumbled a few steps into her room. "Luna! God! You scared me!"

Her feline companion raised a kitty brow, lightly hopping up onto her bed, settling with that _look_ in her eyes that made Usagi inwardly flinch.

" _Usagi_ ," she sighed, interjecting all of the long-suffering resignation possible into her little voice. "You know that you start work in less than ten minutes, right?"

Usagi started, quickly glancing down at her phone before dashing to her dresser, rummaging through her drawers for something to wear.

She could _feel_ Luna's gaze burning holes into the small of her back as she pulled leggings and a casual purple jumper out.

" _Usagi_ ," Luna scolded again, and Usagi grimaced as she dressed as quickly as humanly possible. "At some point, you are going to have to start taking this seriously. Especially with this new enemy threatening us."

She didn't have to wonder what Luna meant. They'd spent most of Junior high school, _and_ high school, talking about it. They were still searching for the elusive Moon Princess. The beautiful, ethereal monarch from their previous lives that they'd been tasked to find and protect.

They'd been awakened as Senshi in this life with the rise of the Dark Kingdom, but they'd managed to dispatch Beryl, with the help of an equally elusive Tuxedo Mask, before they'd been able to recover the Moon Princess, wielder of the missing Silver Imperium Crystal.

As life after the Dark Kingdom settled into some semblance of normalcy, and Tuxedo Mask, their ally, or enemy — _She still wasn't entirely sure_ — had disappeared, seemingly from existence, recovering the princess had seemed to take a bit of a backburner on life.

Of course, now that they were being attacked again, years later, by a new, _stranger_ , energy-sucking enemy, the topic of the Moon Princess had resurfaced with a vengeance. Luna was adamant that this time, they _needed_ to find her.

And while Usagi agreed, _of course she did,_ she was still trying to figure out how to be Sailor Moon, jump over buildings while dodging strange attacks, _all over again_.

Luckily, Tuxedo Mask had re-emerged as well, and, admittedly, he'd rescued her more than she liked to admit in the past three weeks.

Luna sighed, _loudly_ , jolting her from her thoughts. Usagi cleared her throat, grimacing as she zipped up a purple cardigan to help fight off the cooler temperatures of mid-March weather.

"Luna, I _know,"_ she conceded regretfully. "I swear. I'm going to get my act together. Just not right at this moment? As you've pointed out, I'm really going to be _very_ late for work, and Motoki-san vouched for me, and…"

"Usagi," Luna interrupted, and Usagi could practically _feel_ the exasperation. "There are currently more important things happening than your job at Crown arcade."

Usagi inhaled sharply, expression crestfallen, genuinely feeling hurt by Luna's admonishment. Her job at the arcade and parlor had been a long standing point of contention between her and Luna. As well as her teachers in high school, _and_ her parents, who'd been unable to suppress their disappointment that she'd decided not to go to University after high school.

Luna must have realized her mistake, they'd fought on multiple occasions about it, after all, and her little feline features contorted into a look of contrition.

"I'm sorry, Usagi-chan," she apologized, her tone sincere. "I didn't mean it that way. I just meant that…"

This time, Usagi was the one to interrupt her, smiling brightly, though falsely, with all of the contrived nonchalance that she could muster. "It's fine, Luna," she brushed off with a wave of her hand and a forced giggle. "I promise, right after work today, I'll meet Rei-chan at the shrine and we will start discussing this seriously."

Luna opened her mouth to reply, but Usagi didn't hear what she might have said as she twirled on her heels and fled into the hall beyond her tiny bedroom.

Honestly, she'd been so, _so_ sure that she didn't want to continue school after her long, wholly unbearable high school career. She'd hated everything about school; the assignments, the constrictions, her inability to focus on all of the areas that were supposed to be necessary.

Tugging her slippers off, slipping her stockinged feet into her UGGs with the soft, warm lining, she glanced down anxiously at her phone, sighing with disappointment when her inbox _still_ showed not a single email notification.

It was a long shot, she _knew_ that it was, but she'd needed to try anyway. How could she have known that she would long to put the label 'rounin' behind her and go to University _after all_?

With slumped shoulders, feeling deflated, Usagi slipped through the apartment door, mindful of locking it behind her.

She'd known that when she'd secretly completed an entrance exam to TUSW, Tokyo University of Social Welfare, whose main campus was in Ikebukuro, in February that she was unlikely to get in for April. There were typically no second chances granted to students that impulsively decided to take a break after high school. Not in Tokyo, anyway.

Making her way through pedestrian traffic, expertly dodging the early morning crowds, not for the first time, Usagi longed to curl back into bed and retreat to the fantasy-like wonder of her dreams. Though she couldn't remember it clearly, last night, she was sure she'd dreamed of an oasis, the petals of purple flowers, and the sound of birds as she drowned in a pool of cobalt blue.

oOo

Usagi was out of breath, panting when she flew through the Crown's front doors. It's chime seemed louder than usual as its high-pitched trill announced her entrance.

She'd spent the better part of her school days running late, so despite her inclination towards clumsy tendencies, she was somewhat of a pro when it came to dashing through pedestrian traffic. By some miracle, she was only twenty five minutes late, having skipped out on waiting for the Oedo line at Azabu Juban station, choosing to race to the crown on foot instead.

Typically this should have taken her at least 45 minutes on foot, so she was pretty proud of her miraculous feat, though that did nothing to lessen the narrow-eyed disapproval in their part-timer, Kaori's, eyes from behind the counter as she skidded across well-weathered green linoleum.

Kaori pursed her lips, shaking her head reproachfully as she reached behind her to unlace the green apron with the Crown arcades emblem embroidered onto it.

"Usagi-chan," she sighed, flicking the fabric over her head before unceremoniously tossing it onto the countertop. "You're late. _Again."_

Usagi winced, rushing forward, unzipping her sweater as she slipped behind the counter. "I know! I'm so, _so_ sorry!" she apologized, genuinely remorseful. "I swear, I even woke up with my alarm and _everything."_

Kaori sighed, rolling her eyes, but her expression softened as she knelt, plucking her purse from where she kept it stashed during her shift. "It's fine, Usagi-chan," she sighed, exasperated. "Luckily it's not busy today, but seriously, one of these days I'm not going to be able to cover for you."

Usagi nodded in a quick, exaggerated way like she used to do when Sensei Haruna lectured her on her punctuality. Kaori studied her face for a moment longer before shaking her head and striding around the counter.

The responsible brunette waved as she exited the arcade, finished with her shift for the day, and Usagi sighed with relief. She plucked the discarded apron from the counter and maneuvered her endless amount of hair as she looped it over her head.

Someone cleared their throat, and Usagi twirled, quite comically stuck in the lace of the apron's ties, towards the source of the sound.

In the chaos that was her flurried arrival, she'd somehow missed that, though the parlor was relatively empty this morning, a familiar face was seated in his usual spot at the end of the counter.

Just like always, when she came face to face with Mamoru Chiba, Usagi's breath hitched and butterflies fluttered in the pit of her stomach.

He, as usual, was surrounded by books. Dusty tomes, manuscripts, and all of the things that would bore Usagi to death, but suited him _perfectly_. Usagi bit her lower lip, blushing as she concentrated on righting her apron. Not for the first time in all the years that she'd known Mamoru did she wish that he would study her in the same way that she'd watched him study those books.

Usagi managed to fix the apron on her waist, flinging her golden pigtails over her shoulders as she graced Mamoru with a grin.

"Good morning, Mamoru-kun," she greeted, exaggerating her words, suppressing a giggle.

He leaned back, brow raised in amusement, the corner of his lips quirking up into his signature smirk. "What? No Baka today?"

Usagi's grin widened, and she twirled around, expertly collecting glasses of finished drinks left on the counter. "We've had this conversation already," she replied, casting him a haughty sideways glance. "I'm an _adult_ , and my days of battling my high school nemesis are over."

His smirk widened, and he tilted his head in that way that made Usagi want to kiss him senseless. "I hardly considered you nemesis worthy," he quipped, lifting his coffee cup to take a sip. "But I concede on the adult point. Though _said_ adult is late for work wearing her shirt inside out."

Usagi started, quickly glancing down, inwardly cursing, because, _damn_ , she'd been in such a rush she'd pulled her shirt on inside out without noticing.

She wasn't in the habit of getting embarrassed, though, and Mamoru Chiba had seen her in far worse states. So, with a nonchalant shrug, Usagi winked.

"My shirt isn't inside out, actually. Don't you know that this is all the rage in style these days, Chiba?" she proclaimed, wagging her finger. "I would know, too. Minako-chan, my roommate, is a model after all."

Mamoru didn't respond, smirk still in place behind his coffee cup. She flitted forward to serve a bright-eyed brunette that ordered a milkshake with all of the enthusiasm that reminded her of herself when she'd been younger, with the girls, trying to top her best score in Sailor V.

Usagi smiled, feeling nostalgic when she twirled back around towards Mamoru, still watching her, sans smirk now, with a frown creased onto his brow.

Usagi blinked, brow raised, tilting her head to the side in question. "What? Why do you have that everything-about-the-world-annoys-me look on your face?"

She delighted in watching the way his face flushed, neck and cheeks tingeing pink in embarrassment. "I don't have that look," he mumbled, annoyed, as he dropped his gaze back onto his books.

His frown deepened, and Usagi giggled. " _You do_ ," she quipped, skipping forward and closing the gap between them. Placing her palms flat on the scuffed wood counter, she leaned forward, studying him. "It's getting worse, _actually."_

He sighed that long-suffering sigh that she was pretty sure everyone in her life reserved solely for her, and lifted his gaze to meet hers again. "I _don't_ have that look, Odango Atama," he snapped. "Would _you_ stop looking at _me_ like that?"

Usagi lifted a blonde brow, perched her elbow on the counter, and then jauntily propped her chin on her palm. His eyes narrowed, and Usagi grinned. "I _won't_ stop looking at you," she proclaimed, didn't he know she was always looking at him? "Not until you tell me why you're all of a sudden annoyed."

His cheeks went from pink to red, but his frown deepened as he tilted his head forward, snorting drily. "I think it's pretty obvious _why_ I'm annoyed at the moment."

Usagi wasn't fazed, and she scrutinized him a couple of seconds longer before shrugging and popping back up to her feet. "If you say so, Mamoru-kun!"

Just as she went to turn away, she heard him sigh again. "You're really _not_ going to fix your shirt?"

She giggled, having already forgotten that her shirt was inside out, "I already told you," she chimed brightly as she moved towards the brunettes now-empty glass. "I totally did this on purpose!"

He shook his head, exasperated, opting not to respond to her, briskly flipping the open book's page in front of him.

Usagi studied him for a moment longer, marveling at the way his hair fell over his forehead. She inwardly sighed like the lovestruck girl that she'd become the moment that she'd internally admitted that she was in love with the boy who'd spent the better part of her high school days mercilessly teasing her.

At first, she'd been genuinely irritated with him, but after a while, she noted that when he _wasn't_ teasing her, he was always alone, quiet, eyes downcast, in his usual seat at the arcade. It tugged at her heartstrings, and there was something mysterious and vulnerable about him. Admittedly, he'd intrigued her enough that soon she found herself crashing into him on purpose. Doing all of the things he'd proclaimed was annoying, just to see how the tips of his ears reddened or how he was only ever smiling when he was smirking at her.

"You know, despite all of your grumbling," she began, and though he didn't pull his gaze away from his book, she knew he was listening. "I think you enjoy my company. Why else would you keep coming back to study at the arcade?"

His shoulders visibly tensed, and Usagi could tell by the intense way he was focusing on his book a little _too_ much that he'd definitely heard her.

"I _did_ enjoy the company when Motoki worked here," he mumbled, annoyed. "And I'm a creature of habit. I'm comfortable here."

Usagi laughed, finally moving away from him to work through her daily duties that required actual concentration. Though in between cleaning and serving the slow, but steady, trickle of patrons, she kept stopping to glance over at Mamoru, who had dutifully resumed studying.

This was their usual routine on Saturdays, though he was here in the evenings during the week as well.

Minako and Mako-chan were adamant that she was hopeless. If she'd fallen in love with anyone but Mamoru Chiba, she would have hopped into his arms with the reckless abandon that was pretty much a staple of her personality. With Mamoru, though, she trod carefully. She probably always would. It took so long to get him to smile at her, even if his smile was a smirk that he used, especially when he pretended that she annoyed him.

It was late afternoon, and Usagi, shirt still inside-out, was starting to feel that familiar ache in the soles of her feet when she moved towards Mamoru again with the pretense of cleaning the counter to be near him.

When she glanced over at him, his head was bent over his phone this time, brows knit in concentration as he scrolled through an article.

She didn't _mean_ to be nosy; honestly, she was only going to glance at his screen quickly before respectfully looking away. Her eyes narrowed, and she grimaced, though, when she noted that he wasn't reading just _any_ article. He was reading a story about Sailor Moon, the Senshi, and yesterday's Cardian attack.

In fact, he was currently studying a picture of her, as Sailor Moon, splayed out on the ground just after she'd ungracefully slipped on a rock that was completely unrelated to the Cardian that had been attacking them.

Her cheeks instantly warmed, flushing red with humiliation. When had that photo even been snapped?!

She didn't mean to speak out loud, but sometimes, the filter that she liked to think had strengthened when she'd successfully made it to adulthood was utterly absent.

"Ugh," she grumbled with self-deprecation. " _Such_ a klutz."

Mamoru's head snapped up from his phone, brow furrowed in confusion. "Pardon?"

It was then that Usagi realized her mistake, and she cleared her throat, embarrassed to have been caught peeking at his phone. "Oh, er, Sailor Moon," she blurted, shifting uncomfortably under the intensity of his stare. "I, um, happened to glance at your phone to see that picture you're looking at? I just meant that Sailor Moon is such a klutz."

To _her,_ this didn't seem like a mean comment. After all, she was talking about herself. But Mamoru's jaw clenched, and his eyes darkened in a disapproving glare that she hadn't seen in a long time.

"That's surprisingly unkind of you," he bit out harshly, and Usagi blinked, taken aback by the intensity behind his words. "She falls sometimes, but she always gets back up; fights harder than anyone else. It can't be easy doing what she has to do."

Usagi swallowed, properly scolded, before laughing uncomfortably. "Um, right," she replied, "I'm sorry, Mamoru. I wasn't trying to be unkind."

Mamoru's eyes widened in a way that confused Usagi, and the tension visibly left his shoulders as he exhaled, smiling sheepishly. "Of course you didn't," he sighed, scratching at the back of his head. "I'm sorry, Usagi, I'm not sure what—" he grimaced, raking his hand through his hair. "I'm just a big fan of Sailor Moon's."

Usagi blinked, warmth unfurling in her chest at Mamoru's confession. Inwardly, she was jumping up and down, fist-pumping, because Mamoru, handsome, quiet, introverted, _love of her life,_ Chiba had just admitted to liking her! Well, Sailor Moon, technically, but it was still _her._

She was unable to suppress the high-pitched, awkward giggle that spilled from her lips, and her face felt like it was on fire when she tried to cover up the way she was feeling. "Don't apologize," she rushed with a wave of her hand. "You're right about Sailor Moon. Minako-chan always says with great power comes a badass Superchick."

Mamoru seemed to relax, and the corner of his lips twitched as if he was fighting off a smile. "I'm not sure that's how that one goes."

Usagi shrugged, grinning brightly in response. "Probably not," she conceded with a wink. "But, I like her version better."

Then, without another word and before she could say something that might further incriminate her, Usagi twirled around, hair whipping across her shoulders with the briskness of the movement. She fled to the other side of the counter. Eventually, it got too busy to dwell on her conversation with Mamoru, and by the time the crowd had dwindled, and she glanced back at Mamoru's usual spot by the counter, he was gone.

Exhaling softly, Usagi slowly picked up his empty coffee cup, swiping the pad of her thumb over the rim, smiling sadly with a sad shake of her head. Not for the first time, she wondered how different it would be if she'd fallen in love with anyone else.

Her thoughts drifted towards the only other relevant dark-haired man in her life; rose-wielding Tuxedo Mask. He was always rescuing her with his flamboyant speeches and his grand, last-minute gestures.

She sighed, placing Mamoru's empty cup on a tray. It would have been so much easier if she'd fallen in love with Tuxedo Mask. The handsome, dark-haired masked vigilante that may or may not be their enemy was so different from Mamoru, and in the beginning, she'd been wide-eyed, fawning all over him as he swept her into his tuxedoed arms quite often.

He wasn't Mamoru, though, and Usagi sighed and wished that it was Mamoru, and not Tuxedo Mask, that was always rescuing her.

oOo

The sound of the door closing was deafening as it echoed in the hollow silence of his apartment. Mamoru exhaled slowly, _miserably_ , as he loosened the tightly cinched collar of his shirt that had steadily felt like it was beginning to constrict around his neck as the day progressed.

He was always diligent in ensuring that all of the lights were turned off before he left in the morning, so it was dark, the outlines of his furniture only illuminated by the twinkling Minato skyline, and the flashing neon signs from outside.

Truthfully he was exhausted, but he hated coming home. He hated the quiet, the ache of longing that was so much more poignant when alone.

Sighing, he deviated from his usual routine, kicking off his shoes and dropping his briefcase onto the chair beyond the genkan.

His apartment, just like everything else in his life, was immaculate. Devoid of any real personal effects that might have indicated that he even lived here. Though, really, sometimes it felt like he didn't.

He dropped onto the sofa, forcibly releasing the tension in his shoulders as he closed his eyes and laid his head back on the plush leather headrest with a sigh.

Typically, he'd pull out a book, start on one of several difficult assignments that came hand in hand with attending Keio University before falling into bed with resignation, dreading the inevitable dreams of a faceless princess that pleaded with him to find her. To remember something that he simply couldn't.

Growing up alone, unwanted, in the broken bowels of an orphanage, he'd spent the better part of his childhood excitedly anticipating sleep. Hoping that this night, maybe he'd wake up and remember her face rather than just the piercing ache of longing that was a constant in his life.

It was only later when he'd done everything he could to pull himself out of that broken system, rising academically and independently, that he'd come to resent the dreams. They only further cemented that he was failing somehow, that the Princess couldn't _possibly_ be real, and that he would never belong to _anyone_.

In those early days, he'd been the angriest, drowning in helplessness and despair. He vaguely remembered barrelling through life with only his ambition for school, and his need to be _better somehow,_ guiding him.

The first time he'd felt _that_ pull, the one that tugged at his chest and unwittingly elicited his transformation into his alter ego, Tuxedo Mask, he'd felt something for the first time, and it _freed_ him from the disjointed daze that had become his life.

It was his first glimpse of Sailor Moon, the beautiful, selfless, clumsy Senshi in a blue pleated skirt that had irrevocably changed him forever. He hadn't figured it out right away, but later, he'd inwardly accepted that she was the one that called to him and triggered his transformations.

Of course, with the rise of the Dark Kingdom, the dreams of his beautiful, faceless Princess, who now pleaded with him to find the Silver Imperium Crystal, _also_ intensified. Then when he'd discovered that the growing group of Senshi _and_ the red-haired witch and her minions were _also_ looking for the crystal, he knew that the Princess of his dreams was real.

She wasn't just the invention of a lonely, unwanted orphan searching for mechanisms to cope. She was _real._ And she was the only one that could tell him who he was.

He'd clung to that, desperate for something other than the broken, lost memories of a child who had lost everything but couldn't remember what he'd lost.

At first, it was a race. Mamoru needed to find her _first, t_ o be one step ahead of the Senshi and the Dark Kingdom minions. He hadn't counted on falling head over heels for Sailor Moon, who'd somehow managed to break through what he'd thought was a steel-like veneer over his heart.

She was _everything;_ selfless, beautiful, strong, _adorable._ How many battles had Tuxedo Mask stood on the sidelines, observing her growth with awe? She'd gone from clumsy, uncertain, to this strong, infinitely powerful woman who always granted the option of redemption to the enemies who tried their best to break her but could never manage.

_She'd cried_ , tears listlessly rolling down her cheeks, as she stood firm in front of Beryl, pleading with her, _begging_ her to see that there was another way, _that it didn't have to be this way_. That she would _help her_ if only the witch of darkness would let her.

Beryl hadn't taken her offer. O _f course she hadn't,_ and when it was over, Sailor Moon crumpled over her withering body and _cried for her_.

This was the moment that Mamoru accepted and welcomed the fact that he was head over heels in love with her. That he would have given _anything_ to belong to her. To somehow be a person that was allowed to remain permanently in her orbit of brightness.

But he'd had to watch as Sailor Moon disappeared, hair fluttering in the wind, followed by two cats and the other Senshi in tow. The Silver imperium crystal and the Princess that they'd all been searching for, still missing. Mamoru had despaired, drowning in his dreams, longing for her transformation to call for him so that he could see her just _one more time_.

He'd been resigned to live in this endless cycle of trying to find a missing princess and pining for the Moon Senshi that had seemingly vanished off of the face of the planet. All the while navigating the life of an elite student at Keio, completely cutting himself off from everyone.

That was until three weeks ago when a new monster emerged from the darkness, and the warrior of love and justice was tasked to defeat it once again.

Mamoru groaned, frustrated, raking his fingers through his hair. He was so damn _confused_. It was bad enough that he was searching for a faceless princess, entirely in love with a gorgeous masked vigilante in a blue skirt, but now he was involuntarily adding the big-hearted, beautiful blue-eyed Usagi Tsukino into the mix?

When the hell had she managed to creep past his well-laid defenses, anyway?

She'd snuck up on him out of _nowhere,_ and it wasn't until today that he realized that he didn't go to the arcade to study because it was a habit. He did it because he wanted to see _her._ Always late, always driving him mental, always _smiling._

With a snort of self-deprecation, Mamoru stood, not bothering to turn on any of the lights, as he disappeared into his bedroom where he knew he would fall into the inevitable haze of a dream in which he drowned in a pool of white silk that slipped across his skin as he reached for the Princess.

When he finally fell over black sheets, rolling onto his back to glare up at the ceiling, Mamoru inwardly despaired over his dilemma.

It was frustrating not to remember his dreams clearly, and the features of the face that haunted them seemed to reside in the hollow cavity in his chest permanently. All he knew was that it didn't matter if she was the same Princess the Senshi were looking for. That he was hopelessly in love with Sailor Moon, that Usagi Tsukino seemed to be the only person he might actually consider a friend. All of it was irrelevant. The Princess was just a girl, and her heart was calling out to his with a longing that made everything ache

oOo


	3. In which Tuxedo Mask takes a closer look at Sailor Moon

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Hi, guys! I'm back with day 3 of Usa Mamo week 2020! The theme I picked to use for this chapter is SM and TUX.
> 
> Just a couple of things...
> 
> First, thank you to everyone that took the time to review, like, and fave this. Truly and honestly, it means the world! Also, while I have the outline of all of the chapters for this fic, it is not fully written. I am going to do my best to have the chapter released by the Usa/Mamo deadlines, but I may be late on some! SORRY!
> 
> I also want to thank my lovely beta NinjetteTwitch with whom I was able to blurt out this outline and she listened like the most supportive on the planet. Sadly, she was not able to beta this chapter due to real-life stuff, so I would also like to thank RogueAlly who legit read over this and carefully betaed this totally last minute like the awesome person she is.
> 
> I hope you guys like this!

**Chapter 3- SM and Tux**

**In which Tuxedo Mask takes a closer look at Sailor Moon**

Usagi couldn't breathe. Her throat constricted, her heart pounding furiously as her eyes scanned the email for the fourteenth time in disbelief.

_She'd done it._

If she was honest, deep down, she'd never truly thought that despite everything, she would defy the insurmountable odds stacked against her and get accepted into University after barely graduating high school. She'd hesitated when she finally decided to complete an entrance exam for TUSW. What had been the point in fighting so hard and disappointing her parents _and Luna,_ just to end up back in school, anyway?

It was only when she ran into a former classmate from Junior high, Lin Kaito, shortly after graduating high school, that everything changed for her. Kaito hadn't come to school often if she recalled correctly, and he'd been in a bad state when she'd happened to get a glimpse of him in a conbini years later.

The image of him, disheveled, clearly intoxicated, glassy-eyed, and raging against the cashier had disturbed her. Especially when all she could remember about Kaito was a boy who was quiet, introverted, but still relatively put together on those rare days he had come to school. It bothered Usagi enough that she'd brought it up to Ami-chan in passing the next day.

Ami-chan, whose mother had treated Kaito for injuries obtained while living on the streets, had sadly explained what had been relayed to her by her mother.

Usagi was horrified to learn that Kaito had a learning disability, though his mother had refused to acknowledge it. He'd been severely abused and neglected until he was later abandoned at 13, cast off like some unwanted piece of garbage to live in the squalor of an orphanage without _anyone to help him_ all because he learned differently.

Usagi was instantly gutted to discover Kaito's fate, unable to comprehend how it was possible that he'd be mistreated simply because he was unique in ways that some people couldn't understand.

It bothered her enough that, haunted, staring at the ceiling in the darkness of her room later that night, she'd given up on chasing sleep and pulled out her well-used, often misplaced laptop. She'd spent the night pouring over articles and statistics that highlighted how very broken the system was for children who were not fortunate enough to have parents like hers, or parents at all, in Tokyo. It was exceedingly rare for these kids to claw their way out of it, and she'd sat there, tangled in her comforter, staring shell-shocked at the screen, feeling utterly helpless.

She was _Sailor Moon._ She'd helped defeat Beryl. She'd stood high on rooftops and wooden pergolas touting the staples of justice and love before proceeding to decimate the supernatural darkness that somehow managed to claw into her enemies. There had to be _something_ she could do about these children who were so much more helpless and alone than anyone she'd ever been a part of rescuing from a youma.

At that moment, Usagi, scatterbrained, sort-of-a-hot-mess Tsukino decided to go back to school to become a social worker.

She wasn't very good at a lot of things, she was very aware of her perceived flaws, but she had an abundance of love to give. She wanted to use her ability to love in circumstances where it would make a difference in the life of a child that might have otherwise fallen through the cracks of a system that didn't care about them.

After several months of secretly cramming, internally struggling with her decision, she'd _done it._ The proof was in her hands in the form of a formal acceptance email that she'd been anticipating since February. She was one step closer to making a difference.

Usagi grimaced, wrinkling her nose because that meant she was also one step closer to being a dreaded student once again. This was definitely a downside, but it was also only a minor speed bump to reaching her ultimate goal, and she knew, with everything in her, that this was what she wanted to do.

With a click of her finger, her phone's screen went black, and Usagi pushed away from the taupe-colored brick on the side of her apartment building.

She was running very early, for once, and she moved slowly, still slightly in a stunned daze, as she meandered down the sidewalk, with more than enough time to make it to the Crown for her late afternoon Sunday shift.

Of course, she'd have to tell the other girls. They deserved to know, especially with the appearance of these pesky Cardians, which was _not_ something she'd counted on when she'd decided to do this.

It had been years since Sailor Moon and the Senshi needed to transform, and this new enemy had decidedly atrocious timing.

She was internally mulling over how she was going to juggle Senshi duties, her job at the Crown, and school, when she rounded the corner and froze, promptly halting in her tracks.

She inhaled sharply, heart fluttering in her chest like it usually did whenever she came face to face with Mamoru. She was already slipping a practiced, teasing smile onto her lips, expression brightening, before it registered that he wasn't alone.

Instantly, her anticipation at bumping into him outside of the Crown, which happened less and less frequently these days, faltered when she noted that he was with Ginga Natsumi. Not only _that_ , but Natsumi had a slender arm linked with his, her lithe form practically plastered against his side.

Usagi possessed a vast array of admirable attributes. She thought so, anyway. But, admittedly, she was an emotional person who was not only fueled by her feelings but she was also in _love_ with _freaking_ Mamoru Chiba. So, she couldn't help the flare of jealousy that reared in the pit of her stomach like an ache that made her want to rip the redhead away from Mamoru with violence that she did not like to think she had in her.

Still, she was an _adult,_ and though teenage Usagi might have done just that, despite how painful it was, she forcibly plastered a smile on her face, though it didn't quite reach her eyes.

Natsumi and her brother Seijuro had been regulars at the Crown Fruit Parlor for the past month. They were there often, whispering in a booth over lunch or dinner. Natsumi barely spared her a glance, but Seijuro was the bane of Usagi's existence. Though he seemed outwardly charming, there was something about the way he looked at her that made Usagi's skin crawl.

Usagi swallowed, eyes narrowing because it was _precisely_ the way Natsumi was looking at Mamoru now.

Tilting her chin up proudly, Usagi forced herself to move forward. She didn't have a monopoly over Mamoru. He was barely her friend, and though it pained her to think about, she had no right to interject if he wanted to spend time with stupid Natsumi.

Inwardly grimacing at her less than kind thoughts, Usagi put on a brave face, and as casually as she could manage, lifted her hand in the air to wave.

She would have just kept going, passed them while internally bawling at this latest development, but she froze, inhaling sharply when Mamoru's eyes locked onto hers. He looked like he was panicking.

It wasn't an exaggerated, noticeable expression, and maybe to someone who didn't spend hours memorizing the carved beauty of his face, he may have looked entirely impassive. But Usagi _knew better_.

It was in the taut way he clenched his jaw, the tenseness in his shoulders, and the flash of steely desperation in his eyes.

Mamoru was _uncomfortable,_ and Natsumi, _so like her brother,_ had crossed a line, overwhelming him with unwanted attention.

She didn't even hesitate. There was a bounce of determination in her step as she strode towards the couple with a practiced smile on her face. "Oh, there you are!" she proclaimed brightly, fluttering her eyelashes in what she hoped resembled something flirty.

She'd seen Minako do it on so many occasions with excellent results; unfortunately, it didn't have quite the effect that she intended. Mamoru raised an eyebrow, and Natsumi scowled at her.

"Ugh, Tsukino," Natsumi spat, rolling her eyes. "Do you have something in your eye?"

Usagi instantly ceased the eyelash flutter thing, internally adding 'Ask Minako how to properly flirt' to her list of things to do.

Instead, she smiled, "No, but I'm so glad you found my date! I'm a bit late," Usagi giggled, sliding her gaze away from Natsumi's narrowed eyes to Mamoru. "So sorry it took me so long to get here, Mamo-chan. Ready to go?"

She could have freaking died at that moment. Mamo-chan? _Mamo-chan?_ The infantile endearment just slipped from her lips without a second thought, but it suddenly occurred to her that she was _not_ an expert on reading emotions.

What if Mamoru actually _did_ want to be here with Natsumi, and she'd incorrectly imagined his discomfort because her stupid brain wanted him to be uncomfortable with her? What if, right now, he rejected her in the harshest way possible? What if he never came back to the arcade?! She'd never see him again.

What if—

"Yes!" Mamoru blurted, interrupting her internal meltdown as he carefully extracted himself from Natsumi's claws. "I'm ready to go."

Usagi suppressed a sigh of relief, her doubts instantly fading as Mamoru stepped away from Natsumi and sidled up next to her. She resisted the urge to giggle giddily as he nodded politely, but briskly, to the other girl.

"It was lovely to see you again, Ginga-san, but as I tried to explain, I have other plans."

Usagi could practically see the steam rippling from the redhead's ears. Natsumi's eyes flipped between them with a look of possessive rage that she found disconcerting. She didn't give her a chance to respond. Usagi pulled Mamoru away with a winning smile and a dismissive wave, yanking him down the street without a second glance backward.

"Usagi, slow down," Mamoru exclaimed, slowing his steps behind her. "She's gone now."

Usagi stopped, arm still linked with Mamoru's, and craned her neck, peering over her shoulder to make sure he was right. Any sane person would have taken the hint at this point. They would have understood and moved on, but if Natsumi was anything like her brother…

When Usagi was sure that Natsumi was gone, she sighed loudly, relieved, and turned back to Mamoru, who watched her with _that_ smirk. The amused, teasing one that made her heart skip a beat, his brow raised in question.

She blinked, the corners of her lips curling up into a relaxed, half-dazed smile as she studied his face like the lovestruck girl that she was. _She could totally kiss him right now_. All she had to do was pop up just a little bit… move a _little_ closer…

Mamoru's smirk widened, "Mamo-chan, huh?"

Her eyes narrowed, effectively, and quite horrifyingly, pulled out of her trance by the mocking tone in Mamoru's voice. The heat of an embarrassed blush crept up her neck, fanning across her face when she realized how _close_ they were, and that she'd almost _kissed_ him.

With a sharp intake of breath, Usagi pulled away, stepping back with an indignant hiss. "Hey!" she huffed, propping her hand on her hip, eyes narrowing into a glare. "Don't you dare think about using that as something else to make fun of me about!"

He chuckled, " _Me_?" he blinked innocently, smiling wryly. "Make fun of _you_?" he mocked. "I would never."

It caught Usagi off guard a little bit because Mamoru was teasing her, as usual, but his smile was lighter, and it managed to disarm her.

With a sly grin, she shrugged in response. "Well, you know, I did you a favor back there, right? Buuuuut…" she chirped, making a pointed effort to look down the street. "If you're going to be a baka about it, I can just call her back and tell her it's all one big mistake…" she cupped her hands around her lips, breathing deeply, "Natsumi-san? OH, NATSUMI-SAN?"

Mamoru cursed under his breath, grasping her wrist, and she yelped as he tugged her around the corner and out of view of where Natsumi may have possibly decided to linger.

"Okay! Okay!" he hissed, exhaling with defeat. "I'm sorry, I won't tease you, just—" Usagi's teasing smile instantly faded when Mamoru exhaled deeply, miserably raking his fingers through his hair. "Just don't call her back here. Honestly, I'm—I'm grateful that you helped me out."

Usagi's expression softened sympathetically, her heart skipping a beat as she offered him a reassuring smile. "I'm sorry, Mamoru," she breathed. "I was only playing. I could tell how uncomfortable she was making you."

Mamoru frowned, his face flushing, the tips of his ears turning red as he buried his hands in his pockets. "Yes, well," he coughed, shifting his weight from one foot to the other. "I don't think I've ever met someone quite _that_ aggressive before."

Usagi laughed, eyes sparkling with amusement., "You mean there's someone more aggressive than _me_?" she exclaimed in mock-disbelief. "The annoying, crybaby, _Odango Atama extraordinaire_?"

She'd said it playfully as a joke. His less-than-kind taunts from her teenage years were truly just water under the bridge for her now, but she'd miscalculated how he felt about it because Mamoru didn't smile. His eyes widened as if she'd just struck him, and his expression hardened as he quickly averted his gaze.

"Usagi, I'm _sorry_ if—"

Usagi was quick to interrupt the apology she didn't need.

"Mamoru, I'm just kidding," she laughed, stepping around him, her heart aching slightly at the look on his face. "You have to know I teased you right back just as harshly," she confessed. "On purpose, _actually_."

He did look up then; his eyebrow quirked as he studied her face in that intense way that made Usagi feel like he was peering into her soul. "Oh, yeah?" he drawled, his expression lighter now. "Why am I not surprised?"

Usagi shrugged, nonplussed, "How else was I going to get you to stop brooding for a whole ten seconds?" she quipped matter of factly. " _Seriously_ , you were like a walking, talking factory of utter _broodiness_. You were scaring off all my Sailor V competition at the Crown! Motoki and the Furahatas business was practically in shambles from losing all the customers, Mamoru," she exaggerated, eyes twinkling with amusement. "Literal _shambles._ I _had_ to step in!"

Mamoru blinked, momentarily confused before he sputtered, choking on a bark of disbelieving laughter with a shake of his head. "Well it's a good thing that super Odanga Atama was there to save the day."

There was a lighthearted tone in his voice that made Usagi's heart soar, and she knew that it wouldn't stick because there was _something_ about Mamoru. Something that haunted him, and pulled him inward, away from everyone who wanted to be a part of his life. Usagi was loath for this moment to end. Not just because she loved him and wanted to be around him, but because she hated to think that he would walk away from her, and the smile on his face would disappear.

Usagi nodded, swallowing nervously before meeting his gaze. "Where were you going before Natsumi tried to sink her claws into you?"

Mamoru started, seemingly surprised by her question. This bothered her because it was almost like he'd never been asked what his plans were before.

"Keio library, actually," he admitted quietly, "to study."

Usagi grimaced, unsure why he'd want to spend Sunday studying in a library. "My shift at the Crown doesn't start for like, an hour? I'm totally craving taiyaki, and Naniwaya Sohonten is just down the street. Do you—" she almost lost her nerve, and her face was burning hotly, but she cleared her throat and smiled. "Do you want to get some? With me?"

He paused, and the look on his face tugged on all of her heartstrings because he seemed stunned that she'd asked him. Had he never been asked out to lunch before? It hurt to think of all the time he must spend on his own, and she knew that she would do everything in her power to _make_ _sure_ that he never felt like that again.

A moment passed, and she wasn't sure if he was going to accept, but he relaxed his shoulders, and his expression softened, smiling sheepishly as he averted his gaze.

"Yes, sure," he replied, clearing his throat. "I can spare a few minutes."

Usagi rolled her eyes, grinning still as she impulsively leaned forward and grasped his arm. She froze, though, a flash of the uncomfortable look on his face when Natsumi had latched onto him going through her mind. Quickly stepping back, she pulled away because maybe he didn't like to be touched? She didn't, in any way, want to fall into the same category as predatory Natsumi.

"I'm sorry!" Usagi exclaimed, giggling nervously. "You know me, I get super excited at the thought of food, and I didn't mean to grab your arm or make you uncomfortable or anything!"

Mamoru frowned, deflated, but he nodded as they began to move forward. His strides were long, but slow and methodical, and she never felt like she needed to quicken her pace to catch up with him. Silence fell between them, though it wasn't awkward, and Usagi resisted the urge to hum happily as she practically skipped down the sidewalk beside him.

As they were close to reaching their destination, and Usagi's excitement heightened even more at the thought of mouthwatering, taiyaki goodness, Mamoru slowed. His expression was solemn as he stopped her just before they could go through the door of her favorite confectionary shop.

"Usagi," he began, and she frowned, studying his face. He was more guarded, more like what she was used to when his gaze met hers. He opened his mouth, then closed it, almost as if he was struggling with what he was going to say.

Usagi raised an eyebrow, silently inviting him to continue, and he sighed, raking his hand through his hair. "Thank you," he blurted. "I _was_ uncomfortable, and I really do appreciate that you rescued me back there."

Usagi smiled, butterflies fluttering crazily in her stomach at the admission. "Oh, no problem!" she giggled with a dismissive wave. "What are friends for?"

The word friends slipped out, and she suppressed the urge to cringe at her lack of filter, but she relaxed when Mamoru responded with a soft smile instead of the harsh admonishment that she'd dreaded.

"Also, you shouldn't be afraid to speak up, Mamoru," she scolded. "If someone is making you uncomfortable, you're allowed to tell them."

She meant it wholeheartedly, and she was pleased when Mamoru nodded. Usagi tilted her head to the side, watching his face curiously, trying to recall if she'd ever seen him blush so much before.

He cleared his throat and lifted his gaze. " _You_ don't," he quipped curtly, and she blinked, confused. "Make me uncomfortable, I mean."

Her eyes widened, equal parts pleased and startled by his admission when the moment passed, and his signature smirk replaced his tentative smile.

"Come on, Odango Atama," he drawled again, as he leaned over to pull open the door. "I was promised taiyaki."

She was practically beaming, floating on cloud nine as she bounced through the front door past him. It was surprisingly empty for a Sunday. Usagi dashed forward, all thoughts of Natsumi pushed aside as she ordered taiyaki, then without asking, got one for Mamoru too.

The delicately battered, fish-shaped confection was her absolute favorite, and, in her opinion, this was the best place in all of Tokyo to get it.

Because of that, she was sort of a regular, so she wasn't surprised when portly, bright-eyed Ito Matsuo, part-owner of the shop, stepped through the curtain to the back with a jovial greeting and a laugh that made Usagi giggle.

She was in her element, totally comfortable as she chatted amicably with Matsuo and introduced him to Mamoru, who politely nodded, a half-smile on his face.

By the time Matsuo had ushered them to one of the weathered oak tables in the sparsely-decorated dining room, insisting that their taiyaki was on the house, Usagi realized that Mamoru hadn't been able to get a word in edgewise.

Red-faced, feeling guilty and slightly embarrassed, Usagi nibbled the edge of the fish cake. She probably would have devoured it if Mamoru wasn't sitting across from her. He was observing her in a way that made her shift under the intensity of his stare.

"Sorry," she apologized with a nervous laugh. "I'm here often."

Mamoru lifted an eyebrow, lips quirked into a half-grin as he tilted his head to the side. "Yes, I'd gathered that."

Usagi was relieved that he seemed more amused than anything, and she bit into her food, resisting the urge to moan into the pastry as the savory flavor exploded over her tongue.

She was so into the deliciousness of her food that she jumped a little when Mamoru spoke next.

"Don't you usually work the morning shift on Sundays?"

Usagi blinked, swallowing her food with a grin. "I switched with Kaori," she responded. "How do you know when I work?"

Mamoru coughed, shifting in his seat before promptly rolling his eyes. "I told you, I'm a creature of habit," he replied. "And I'm observant. You look like you enjoy it more than Motoki did."

She nodded, gaze dropping to her plate, suddenly not feeling hungry at all. She knew, deep down, that Mamoru meant it as a compliment. There was nothing in his tone to indicate that he thought she was less for choosing to work at the arcade. God knows he'd seen his fair share of her abysmal grades in high school, but suddenly, Usagi couldn't help but feel self-conscious.

She was the one who had made the decision not to pursue post-secondary education. She'd made sure it wasn't because she'd failed, _because she hadn't,_ and she'd fought everyone she loved dearly in her life for the right to do that without an ounce of regret.

Somehow, though, sitting across from grinning, beautiful, _Keio-attending_ , Mamoru, she was starting to feel like maybe he was way out of her league.

She tried not to cringe at the realization, and her shoulders slumped in resignation as she poked at what was left of her taiyaki. What would Mamoru think about Tokyo University of Social Welfare? It definitely wasn't nearly as glamorous as Keio.

"Usagi?" Mamoru prodded, his tone alarmed, brow furrowed as he studied her with concern in his gaze. "Are you okay?"

Usagi tried to force a smile, but it came out as more of a grimace as her cheeks flushed with embarrassment. "It's a good job; I love working at the Crown. I know it's not— um," she exhaled, swiping a napkin off the table to wring nervously between her fingers. She'd had this argument so many times, with so many people. It wasn't easy defending her choices over and over again. "I know it's not University or anything, but it's what I wanted to do."

She'd barely squeaked those words out on an exhale of breath, and Mamoru seemed startled by her quiet admission, which, even she had to admit, was very much unlike how she typically spoke about it.

Mamoru leaned forward, his expression thoughtful as he studied her. "Usagi, do you like working in the arcade?" he asked softly, leaning forward. "Does it make you happy?"

Usagi was going to tell him, _yes;_ this did make her happy. She'd had no problem vehemently defending her choices to everyone else. Still, when she opened her mouth to respond, she faltered, snapping it shut again. She sighed with resignation as she tore her napkin up into little pieces.

"No," she responded bleakly, quietly, voicing it out loud for the first time. "I _thought_ it did. You know how much I've always hated school…"

She risked glancing up at him, nervous about what she'd see in his face, but there was no judgment or reproach in his expression: just a reassuring smile and a silent invitation for her to continue.

Exhaling deeply, Usagi shrugged sheepishly. "And I still hate school, you know, but I… there actually _is_ something I want to do," she began, heart pounding in her chest. "I want to help people. I think…I think I'm _good_ at helping people. I've been accepted at Tokyo University of Social Welfare. I start in April."

The articles and horrifying research results that had led her to this decision flashed through her head. It stoked her sense of helplessness, her anger at the injustices of a broken system, and for a moment, she forgot that she was currently confessing all of this to Mamoru.

She clenched her fists on the table. "It's just… Did you know that out of the nearly 39,000 children in orphanages across Japan, just twelve percent can expect to find foster homes or adoptive parents?" she whispered, appalled. " _Twelve percent!_ And what happens to the other kids? What happens to them?" The statistics were atrocious, devastating, they made her angry, but mostly, they made her _sad_. She swallowed, blinking back tears before tilting her chin up proudly. "I can be someone who helps those kids; if I have to go to school to do it, I will just have to go back to school."

Saying it out loud was surreal and such a relief because it only cemented what she already knew. That _this_ was what she wanted to do when she wasn't moonlighting as a Sailor Senshi. She wasn't just Sailor Moon. Usagi Tsukino could help, too.

She was feeling pretty good about it until the passion-fueled adrenaline from her mini-rant waned, and she finally focused on Mamoru. She couldn't tell what he was thinking, but she was starting to feel a little self-conscious at how he'd fixed his gaze onto hers, quietly scrutinizing her in a way that was beginning to make her squirm in her seat.

Did he think that she was better off at the Crown? Obviously, Tokyo University of Social Welfare wasn't nearly as glamorous as Keio, and Usagi cringed, face flushing with embarrassment as she replayed what she'd said over again in her head. Had she really spouted the staples of helping others when _he_ was going to be a _doctor_?

She swallowed, feeling inadequate suddenly, which triggered her need to fill the silent void with nervous, _babbling_ chatter.

"I know that you're going to be a doctor, and TUSW is hardly anything compared to Keio, but I—"

He interrupted her, leaning over with reflexes so quick she almost missed it as he covered her fiddling, fretting fingers with his hand. She flushed, breath catching in her throat, anything that she might have said dying on her lips as she stilled and met his gaze.

"Usagi, I think one of your greatest qualities is your ability to bring out the best in people," he admitted quietly. "No matter what you do, regardless if it's at the Crown or in University, you'll rise above expectations in a way that not many could."

It took her breath away, and she swallowed, blinking back grateful tears. "Thank you," she whispered, breathless, suddenly feeling overwhelmed.

He seemed to realize that he was leaning close, his hand warmly covering hers, their faces close enough that she could see the muted golden freckles meshed in cobalt blue, because his eyes widened and his face flushed red. He pulled away as if he'd been burned, cleared his throat, and carded tapered fingers through his hair.

"I'm just not accustomed to hearing you be so hard on yourself," he explained, blustering nervously with a contrived smirk that Usagi could see right through. "Confidence suits you better than insecurity, Odango Atama."

Usagi studied Mamoru, the intimacy of the previous moment gone as she watched him retreat like he usually did. She probably should have been disappointed, but she wasn't. This was the closest she'd ever been to breaking through the barrier he'd built around himself. She was one step closer to figuring him out; so, if he needed a moment to pull back, she was more than willing to oblige.

She slid that smile, the teasing, slightly haughty one that drove him insane, back onto her lips and rolled her eyes. "Whatever, baka," she dismissed with a giggle and a wave of her hand. "You know, you're going to have to think of a better insult than Odango Atama. I know you secretly love my hair."

He raised an eyebrow, smirking, shaking his head in protest.

If she hadn't been reeling from revealing to him that she was going to school. Still recovering from all of their almost-intimate moments, feeling giddy that she was actually kind of Mamoru's friend now, she would have probably thought through her next statement more carefully. She would have used the hard-earned filter that she'd cultivated over the years.

Instead, like an idiot, she tsked, haughtily shaking her head. "Well, I guess you're not an actual Sailor Moon fan then. Or would you call _her_ Odango Atama if you came face to face with her too?"

He frowned, brows knit in confusion, startled by her words. "What do you mean?"

It was only then that Usagi remembered that the reason she was able to moonlight as Sailor Moon, her identity wholly protected, was because some mystical Senshi power kept her safely glamoured. Of course he would hardly remember that Sailor Moon wore odangos in her hair.

Luckily, she was saved from answering when the alarm that she'd set on her phone blared, barely muffled, from the confines of her pocket.

Usagi bolted to her feet with a gasp, cursing under her breath, because she'd lost track of time and was going to be late _again._

Kaori was going to murder her this time!

"I'm so sorry, Mamoru!" she exclaimed, "I have to go. I'm going to be _so_ late!"

She was a flurry of blonde hair as she swiveled around, waving to Matsuo behind the counter, as she dashed from the confectionary shop. She was in such a rush that she didn't bother to look back like she might have otherwise. If she had, she would have seen the narrow-eyed, contemplative look on Mamoru's face as he watched her go.

oOo

There was never a time in Mamoru's life when he'd ever felt this confused, guilt steadily eating away at him as he contemplated what he was currently feeling. It was driving him insane, and he'd spent the better part of the afternoon and evening after his impromptu 'date' with Usagi inwardly berating himself about it.

At first, when he'd admitted that he'd die for Sailor Moon, the guilt had been unbearable. Shouldn't he remain faithful to the Princess that had been a refuge in the most horrific parts of his life? The faceless but warm entity that he'd spent his entire childhood coveting more than anything else?

He'd seen the lasting effects on the other kids, the ones cycled through the orphanage that he'd been tossed into without a second thought. They were disconnected, angry, hardened in a way that he almost envied. At a very early age, he'd had to learn that the coping mechanism that protected so many of the others was not going to work for him.

This was mostly because he felt _everything._

He'd felt the heart-wrenching grief of the little girl with the sad brown eyes, and the rage of the hard-faced teenager that always picked fights. He'd felt the pulse of life thrumming in the wild rose bushes that grew in the tiny yard just beyond the orphanage. He felt _all of it_ with a sharp ache that overwhelmed him before he'd learned to manage his senses better, before he'd learned that this wasn't typical in the other kids who came and went.

His only escape had been the Princess of his dreams.

So, when he'd finally come to terms with his feelings for Sailor Moon, he'd inwardly struggled. He'd fought it, even as he secretly willed her transformation to call him like it always did.

After a while, he'd accepted the fact that though he longed to find the Princess, and he loved all that she represented, there was a reason he bonded to Sailor Moon. There was a reason he could find her no matter where she was when she was in danger or afraid. He was _supposed_ to love her. He knew with every beat of his heart that he was meant to protect and love the beautiful Warrior of Justice. In some ways, he was almost sure that the Princess had even meant for him to find her.

But now, Usagi Tsukino, of all people, was starting to invade his thoughts more and more often.

Groaning with self-deprecation, Mamoru curled his fingers around the cold metal railing of his balcony, leaning over it as if pained by the realization.

The sun had set just under an hour ago. The brilliance of an orange glow lit up Tokyo Tower like the focal point in a picture-perfect postcard as it illuminated the twinkling Minato skyline and his hunched-over figure on his balcony.

How was it possible that after only one afternoon of sitting across from bright-eyed Usagi, who moaned into her food, bestowed her bubbly brightness on doting shopkeepers, and passionately toted the injustices of _orphaned children,_ that his feelings were already shifting in a way that _shouldn't be possible?_

What the hell was wrong with him, anyway?

Was he so fickle, _so goddamn shallow,_ that he would betray the depth of his feelings for Sailor Moon, and the Princess before her, for Usagi?

Pushing away from the railing with a sigh of disgust, Mamoru angrily raked his fingers through his hair, scowling into the darkness as he contemplated the intensity of his emotions. Clearly, he was _missing_ something.

He didn't love Sailor Moon any less, but there was something about Usagi, something he couldn't figure out.

It was so damn frustrating to have all the pieces of a puzzle without being able to make them _fit_ in a way that made some semblance of common sense.

He was mid-swivel, turning to go back into the dark and lonely interior of his apartment when he felt the pull of Sailor Moon's transformation. It tugged at a tendril lodged in his chest, and his breath hitched, heart skipping a beat with adrenaline and anticipation as he let the power of his transformation wash over him.

The moment he felt the welcoming weight of his cape, and the domino mask firmly fixed on his face, he knelt and, without hesitation, vaulted into the air over the railing.

He didn't have to think about where he was going, his legs moving steadily and expertly as he leaped from rooftop to rooftop. Sailor Moon's call elicited a deep-seated instinct that led him exactly where he needed to go.

His body thrummed with power when he landed, cape rippling behind him, in front of a virtual reality theater. It was a new entertainment addition to the Juban district. At night, the neon signs that highlighted the features of the virtual reality experience glowed brightly, almost gaudily, onto the pavement and the patrons waiting in line beneath it.

As of yet, there wasn't any kind of commotion to indicate that another Cardian was attacking anyone. But the spike of terror that flared sharply in his chest, one that didn't belong to him, was an indication that _something_ was happening inside that establishment, and not only was Sailor Moon in there, but she needed him.

He was quick to step into the shadows of an alley beside the theatre, heart racing with the urgency he felt to get in there, and it didn't take long before he located a locked side entrance.

In Tuxedo Masks' early days during the slow and steady rise of the Dark Kingdom, when he'd frantically been searching for the Silver Crystal, stumbling blindly through the dark of his obsession and anger before finding Sailor Moon, he'd broken into his fair share of jewelry stores.

He'd spent hours in the library scouring books for methods in quickly picking locks, dutifully taking notes, then practicing with careful precision later on different store-bought versions that were most commonly used. He was sort of a pro now, so it was easy to break into the theater, and he quietly slipped into the darkened hallway over the threshold without a hitch.

He didn't need to be connected to Sailor Moon to know that there was something dark and malevolent laced into the air. He moved into the darkened hallway that led into the virtual gaming area lined with fake, plaster-made stone, fluorescent lighting dimmed and flickering for effect.

He was swift, pulse racing when a muffled, terror-filled cry pierced the silence. He dodged virtual monsters that popped up as he triggered sensors. He navigated a maze of purposefully confusing halls until he leaped into the air, perched on a fake, grey-painted boulder that overlooked what was a wailing, skimpily dressed Cardian.

The floor was littered with moaning, energy-sapped victims, and Sailor Moon stood firm in front of a kneeling middle-aged man with horn-rimmed glasses hunched protectively over an unconscious brown-haired teenager.

He stopped for only a moment, heart brimming with awe and pride as he took a second to marvel at Sailor Moon's strength. The determined tilt of her chin, knees locked, as she faced down the olive-skinned atrocity lashing out at her with long, vibrating, whip-like strands of crimson hair.

She was alone this time. He wondered where the other Senshi were, deducing that they were more than likely delayed due to the semi-private location that this particular Cardigan had decided to attack.

When Sailor Moon leaped into the line of fire to protect the kneeling civilian, entangling herself with a squeal of protest in the cackling Cardian's hair, Tuxedo Mask's heart leaped into his throat. Hissing through his teeth, he instinctively conjured a razor-sharp, ruby-red rose. It sailed through the air with startling precision and sliced through the crimson strands, instantly severing its connection.

Sailor Moon fell to the ground with a thump, groaning as she rocked back onto her knees with a grimace on delicate features.

The Cardian, growling the name Hellant, recovered quickly and lashed out again.

Without hesitation, Tuxedo Mask vaulted from his prone position, heart lodged in his throat, as he deftly curled his arms around her waist, pressing her lithe form against his chest, as he carefully rolled them out of the way.

Shielding her with his cape, he pulled her to her feet, twirling to the side as Hellant attacked again. Inhaling sharply as its razor-sharp hair grazed his shoulder, he pressed Sailor Moon protectively against the wall.

It was in that moment that the other Senshi made their appearance, Mercury's mist exploding throughout the room, shrouding them under the temporary safety of cool, vision-obscuring fog.

Glancing down, he realized that he'd caged her in his embrace, her gloved fingers curled into the lapels of his tuxedo, as she peered up at him through a dark, lacy fringe of lashes with eyes so blue he wanted to drown in them.

It was only when tendrils of blonde hair slid against his arm, the silk-like texture slipping momentarily along the inside of his wrist, that he consciously focused on it.

His brow furrowed, blinking in confusion as he pulled back, and without thinking, twirled the tip of her pigtail between his gloved thumb and forefinger. Usagi's teasing words about Sailor Moon wearing odangos echoed suddenly in his head, and he tensed, stunned because _yes,_ she did have odangoes, and _how had he never noticed that before?_

"Um, Tuxedo Mask?" Her voice, soft and filled with confusion, snapped him out of his daze. "Thank you for saving me again _,_ but I think I should maybe help…? With the monster?"

He shook his head as if to clear it, a sense of deja-vu, and that strange feeling that had been nagging him since Usagi had raced away from the confection shop roaring uncomfortably in the back of his mind. What _was_ it? _What the hell was he missing?_

Swallowing thickly, nodding, he forcibly pulled away from her even though every instinct in his body wanted to shield her from danger rather than watch her bounce back into the thick of it again.

He knew better now, though, and there wasn't a person in this room more equipped to fight off the monster than Sailor Moon. So he dutifully moved to the side as she flew past him to stand beside Mars, whose expression was fierce as she shouted an elemental attack, and the creature screamed as fire enveloped it.

With the Senshi present, it didn't take long for the girls to make short work of the unnatural intruder. The Cardian bellowed, its screams echoing throughout the room as Sailor Moon dispatched it with a boomerang swipe of her tiara.

She hadn't needed him to help after he'd initially scooped her off the floor, but he couldn't move, standing frozen in place, when he probably should have retreated on to the mock boulder to watch from a careful distance like he usually did. His gaze remained locked on Sailor Moon as she moved a little more cautiously and swiftly across the room.

The fact that her hair was twin odangoed tresses of silk was so painfully clear now he wondered how he possibly could have missed it before.

"Sailor Moon, my daughter…" the pained, pleading rasp of the man with the glasses cut through his thoughts, and he turned, fixing his gaze onto the strained features of the kneeling man whose expression was riddled with fear. "Usagi. She was with us on a family outing, and I don't know where she is. Can you help me? Please? Have you seen her?"

Tuxedo Mask's heart skipped a beat, and he inhaled sharply. What were the chances that he was speaking of the same Usagi that he knew? With a frantic twist of his neck, Tuxedo Mask's eyes swept over the Cardian's victims, who were now rising from their unconscious states, groaning with significantly less energy, but otherwise unharmed.

Was Usagi here? Was she okay?

He refused to dwell on why the panic struck him so harshly, especially when he was standing in front of the woman he loved.

Sailor Moon dashed to the man's side, leaning down to inspect the groaning teenager as he shifted on the ground.

"Don't worry!" she reassured, smiling brightly. "Your daughter is safe and sound, and I…I was able to get her out before the Cardian attacked!" When the man tried to stand, still panicked, Sailor Moon placed her palms onto his shoulders and gently pressed him back down. "Oh, please don't stand! It's best to wait for help and paramedics to get here and check you guys out. I promise you that Usagi is fine."

As if on queue, there was a cacophony of distant shouts, muffled yelling from a crowd of people emerging just down the hall.

"Speaking of which, time to go, Sailor Moon!"

Venus was the one to shout out the warning, and Sailor Moon straightened, her gaze flicking to the entrance of the room that would soon be swarming with people.

"Right!" she responded with a curt, determined nod as she stepped away, almost hesitantly from the civilians before glancing over at him.

Just like it always did when she turned her focus onto him, his heart skipped a beat, and he swallowed, overwhelmed by the depth of his feelings for her.

Her soft, tentative smile took his breath away. "Thanks again for the rescue, Tuxedo Mask."

He tried not to crumble gratefully under the warmth of her praise. "It was nothing; you were the one doing all of the fighting."

She giggled, blushing warmly, and it elicited the wisp of another frown from him because there was something familiar, something else that he was _so_ close to grasping…

"Ah, well, you know what they say, Tuxedo Mask," she quipped brightly, winking. "With great power comes a badass Superchick."

It happened in that instant, with those words that another odangoed blonde had quoted to him just the day before as she'd flitted not so gracefully behind the counter in the Crown. Whatever glamour or magic that protected the Senshi fell away like a shimmering curtain of silver pooling at her feet.

He stood, shell-shocked, lips parted on a strangled gasp, as the thing he'd been missing all of this time fell into place with the pressure of an elastic band pulled back tautly before snapping forward with a ferocity that possessed the ability to leave welts.

There was a reason he was drawn to Usagi. There was a reason she enamored him. There was a reason why she'd been able to tell the man kneeling at her feet with unwavering confidence that his daughter, Usagi, was safe.

_It was because Usagi Tsukino was Sailor Moon._

Everything he was feeling in that moment must have been plainly written on his face because Sailor Moon— _Usagi—_ frowned, tilting her head to the side in that concerned, gentle way he'd seen her do a million times before when she was prodding at him, forcibly pulling him out of his shell in the arcade despite everything he'd ever said to her.

Before she could say anything, Venus was there. She yanked on her arm, pulling her away from him as they disappeared into the darkened maze of hallways on the opposite side of the room.

He wasn't sure how he regained his senses enough to move from his tensed position after she'd left, but his instincts managed to grab hold of him, his legs moving of their own accord as he slipped through the halls in a blur, stumbling into the alleyway on a strangled gasp.

He barely paid any attention to the dull ache in his shoulder as he fell back against the brick wall of the virtual theater, hidden in the shadows as he ripped the domino mask from his face, breathless, throat constricted with emotion.

Inhaling deeply with his eyes clenched shut, he let his head fall against the brick as a sudden sharply-edged burst of laughter tore from his lips.

Of course she was Sailor Moon. _Of course she was._ How could he have been so stupid? How could he not have made the connection from the beacon of brightness that was Usagi to the strong, powerful Moon Senshi?

Now that he knew, it was so easy to rake through his mind and connect the dots. His heart ached as he remembered how he'd felt sitting across from her earlier this afternoon, as she'd unknowingly stunned him with her passion to protect helpless children like the ones that he'd once been.

It was such a relief. _Such a relief._ Sailor Moon was Usagi Tsukino. Everything fit now, falling into place in such a comforting way that it brought tears to his eyes. It made perfect sense.

He was in love with Usagi Tsukino, and more than anything in the world, he wanted to be _hers_.


	4. In which Usagi Tsukino takes a closer look at Mamoru Chiba

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Guys! I cannot believe I made the deadline for this chapter! Is started writing it last night, and I managed to finish it today! I know today is technically Crystal Tokyo, but just like the last chapter, I switched it up and today I am using Usagi and Mamoru!
> 
> Thank you everyone for your super awesome reviews and likes! Usa/Mamo week this year has been EPIC and all of the amazing content to come out of it has been amazing! If you're on Tumblr, go take a look at Idesofnovember as she is currently cultivating all the stuff!
> 
> I also want to thank RogueAlly! My beautiful Bae-ta bestie NinjetteTwitch is unavailable at the moment due to some real-life stuff, so RogueAlly kindly agreed to read and beta this for me last minute! THANK YOU.
> 
> Tomorrow I am going to be using the AU theme. I'm hoping to have it out on time, but it may take a little longer! SORRY! Adulting is encroaching on my ficcing time like the jerk that adulting is!
> 
> I hope you guys like this chapter! If so, please let me know!?
> 
> xxoo

**Chapter** **4**

**In which Usagi Tsukino takes a closer look at Mamoru Chiba**

Though she could hardly be considered old by any means, Usagi _felt_ old. At least, she felt much older than she had when she was a teenager fighting off youmas at all hours of the night, rebounding the next day effortlessly, barely feeling the effects that should have come hand in hand from battling monsters as the Moon Senshi. She felt the effects now, though, and she cringed as every step aggravated the dull ache thrumming through her body as she slowly made her way to work the next morning.

Mondays were her least favorite day of the week because it was the only day that she was in charge of actually opening the Crown for business, which meant that she had to be up at the crack of dawn to get there in time. So, she was still sleepy, sore, and admittedly a little cranky as she trudged down the street, fighting off exhaustion with every step.

She was lucky that she'd been with her father and brother on one of their monthly family outings the night before, and Usagi shuddered when she thought about what could have happened to them if she'd not been there. Sighing, she tried her best not to dwell on Cardians, the pressure of finding the missing Princess, and the strange way that Tuxedo Mask always seemed to be there to whisk her out of danger just in the nick of time.

Luna and Rei were adamant that he was dangerous. That he couldn't be trusted, and she'd argued with them after last night's battle about it because, for some reason, Usagi couldn't even fathom that the masked vigilante who always seemed to be in the right place at the right time had a malicious bone in his body.

Shaking her head, determined to press all thoughts of things she couldn't change aside, Usagi yawned, hunkering down into her sweater to fight off the early morning chill as she rounded the corner of the street where the Crown was located.

She stopped, stumbling a bit in surprise, because there, leaning against the glass doors, the light of the sun glittering off it, was Mamoru.

Usagi blinked, inhaling sharply, excited to see him again, but also confused because Mamoru never came to the Crown on Mondays. Especially not before the arcade had even opened.

She frowned, studying him carefully, noting that he was a little more disheveled than usual. Which, if she recalled in all the years that she'd known him, was very unusual.

She couldn't help but feel worried, heart skipping a beat as she closed the gap between them, lifting her hand to wave.

Her hand froze in midair, greeting dying on her lips when he lifted his chin and his eyes locked with hers. Mamoru was hard to read sometimes, and when he wasn't smirking, he was more than likely frowning or impassive in a way that was so guarded it tugged on her heartstrings.

Though it was fleeting, and that unreadable expression fell back into place, the look in his eyes had been raw, filled with something that Usagi couldn't quite put her finger on, knowing only that it took her breath away.

She continued forward, head tilted, her practiced, teasing smile curled firmly into place as she stopped in front of him.

"Hey, Mamoru," she greeted tentatively, suddenly feeling a little off-kilter as if she wasn't sure where they stood after their 'date' yesterday. "You're here early for a Monday morning."

Mamoru was quiet for a moment, studying her in a way that made her heart beat faster before he raised a brow, the corner of his lips quirking up in amusement. "It's not that early, Usagi," he replied casually. "Isn't the arcade supposed to open at eight?"

Usagi frowned, nodding in agreement. "Yes, maybe eight isn't early for someone like _you,_ but for the rest of us _normal_ people, you know, those of us that aren't all old and brooding, eight is actually _really_ early," she explained, wagging her finger and tilting her chin up haughtily.

Mamoru's grin widened, and he snorted, "Duly noted," he conceded. "Except it's actually nine am right now?"

The condescending, teasing smile on Usagi's lips faded, and she started at his words because surely she hadn't miscalculated _that_ badly?

She fumbled a bit when she pulled her phone from the hello kitty bag tucked into the crook of her arm, and, sure enough, the blocky white numbers on her screen glared up at her almost accusingly.

"Oh my god!" she gasped, dashing by him, fingers fumbling clumsily with the keys bequeathed to her by Motoki before he'd gone abroad with Reika. "How does this _keep_ happening to me? I woke up with my alarm and _everything!_ "

She cursed, keys slipping from her fingers onto the pavement below. She was leaning down to retrieve them, but Mamoru was faster, and he effortlessly plucked them from the ground, amusement etched into his expression as he pressed them into the palm of her hand.

Usagi's breath hitched, pulse quickening at the brief physical contact. It felt like time stopped, his eyes locked evenly with hers, and she inhaled a slow, shuddering breath, feeling dizzy from the heady sense of deja vu that momentarily overwhelmed her. Like she'd stood here once before, only inches apart from Mamoru, the warmth of his fingers as they caressed hers as if he meant to.

Everything about Mamoru called to Usagi, and she swallowed around the lump of emotion in her throat when he lifted his hand, and it hovered for a moment, as if he was going to touch her face, before he seemed to come to his senses. His hand dropped and he took a small step back instead.

Usagi cleared her throat, blushing warmly as she turned back towards the door and more carefully inserted the key into the metal slot. _Something felt different_. It set her heart racing, made her palms sweaty, and suddenly, she felt dizzy with excitement. She risked a furtive side glance at Mamoru as the doors swung open automatically, wondering what could have possibly changed.

He simply smiled, all raised brows with that teasing twinkle in his eyes. "You should probably invest in a better alarm clock, Odango Atama."

This, of course, reminded Usagi how horribly late she was, and she gasped, dashing over the threshold, hurriedly flicking on lights as she went.

"It's not my alarm clock!" she snapped, scrambling behind the counter to prepare the register and start the coffee. "I swear, I live in some kind of living time bubble whose sole purpose is to make me late for important things."

Mamoru laughed, slipping onto his usual seat while watching her in that weirdly intense, open way that was welcome, but _very_ strange. "That's an interesting excuse for your lack of punctuality," he teased, setting his fancy leather bag of books on the counter beside him.

Usagi shrugged, ripping open the foil of pre-ground coffee and pouring it into a paper sleeve. "I've seen weirder things," she grumbled under her breath.

She was mostly talking to herself, but Mamoru nodded, leaning forward, his expression serious as he fixed his eyes onto her. "I believe you."

She stopped for a second, glancing at him sitting there, shrouded in a halo of light that pierced through the glass panes behind him, and couldn't help but admire how beautiful he was. Her brow furrowed a moment later. He was beautiful all right, but he was acting _super strange_. Not that she minded extra time with Mamoru, but what was he doing here on a Monday morning, anyway?

"Hey, don't you have class this morning?"

Mamoru shrugged in response, tapered fingers deftly opening his leather briefcase to pull out a book. Her eyes narrowed, head tilted as she carefully scrutinized him. Mamoru was a lot of things, but casual about school? This was something he most definitely was _not_.

She opened her mouth to ask him why he was being so weird, but the store phone's shrill ring from the back cut through the silence and interrupted her.

As it turned out, it was Furahata-san on the line; obviously, the fact that the Crown had opened an hour late hadn't gone unnoticed. She was incredibly lucky that she was on excellent terms with the Furahatas, mostly because of Motoki. If she'd been working anywhere else, she most definitely would have found herself unemployed.

She'd been granted another chance, though she was on thin ice, so she pushed thoughts of Mamoru and his uncharacteristic appearance at the arcade aside. She dove into her duties; stocking, serving, cleaning, and sanitizing all of the games.

Mondays were typically slower until the afternoon crowd piled in, mostly students who were just finishing class. However, there was still a steady stream of patrons for the Parlour, so she didn't have much time to check on Mamoru, though she did make sure his coffee cup was refilled without asking several times.

Still, it was hard not to be affected by his presence at the counter, and she often stole furtive glances his way, inwardly admiring his defined profile, the way his hair fell into his eyes as he bent over his book, and more than once, she was sure she felt him watching her, too. Though, she may have imagined it.

It was just before lunch when she decided to take a mini-break. The soles of her feet ached, and the remnants of her minor injuries from the Cardian last night still throbbed dully in her legs and arms. Clearly, whatever powers the Senshi possessed to help them heal faster was taking its sweet time. She cringed, rolling her neck to pop the lingering kinks as she meandered back to the counter where, surprisingly, Mamoru was still studying.

She couldn't remember the last time he'd stayed so long, and she was on her way over to ask him what he was up to, or maybe purposely annoy him just to see him smirk, when the chime of the front entrance chirped loudly and Minako flew over the threshold. She was a flurry of glossy blonde hair and upbeat energy as she approached, grinning brightly.

"Usagi!" she beamed, sporting the latest fashion as her profession dictated, plopping down onto a well-weathered, slightly faded, barstool. "There you are!"

Usagi rolled her eyes, shaking her head with amusement as she slipped behind the counter, collecting dirty glasses as she graced her best friend with an indulgent smile.

"Where else would I be, Minako?" she chuckled warmly. "I work every Monday."

Minako tsked, waving dismissively before flicking her hair over her shoulder. "It's just a saying, Usagi," she drawled with a smile, craning her neck from left to right, scanning her surroundings. " _Man_ , this place hasn't changed since high school." Her roaming gaze stopped on Mamoru at the end of the counter, and her eyes lit up with excitement. "Is that Mamoru Chiba?"

Usagi's eyes widened. Her cheeks flushed pink because there was not a thing she didn't share with Minako, and the way she felt about Mamoru was often a topic they'd discussed at length over mochi ice cream while binging The Bachelor Japan on Netflix.

Minako rarely found herself in the arcade, though, so Usagi had never needed to worry about her running into Mamoru. Though she loved Minako, the blonde considered herself the guru on all things love-related, probably because she was the Senshi of Venus. Her advice on multiple occasions had been to throw herself into his arms and kiss him senseless.

Usagi bit her lower lip nervously. Discretion was _not_ Minako's strong suit.

Mamoru glanced up at the sound of his name, though Usagi had a strong suspicion that he'd been listening the whole time.

" _Yes_ , Minako," Usagi hissed under her breath. "You know it is."

Minako smiled slyly, the corners of perfectly rose-painted lips curling up into a Cheshire cat-like grin. "Oh, well, he looks all grown up," she giggled _loudly._ Then much to Usagi's dismay, Minako swiveled her stool towards him, leaning casually against the counter, cornflower blue eyes scanning over him appreciatively. "You know, Usagi, you're totally right. Mamoru Chiba is _very_ handsome."

Usagi gasped, mortified, resisting the urge to facepalm or drag Minako out of the arcade by her hair. "Oh, my God, Minako," Usagi hissed, "Were you here for a _reason?"_

She didn't dare risk glancing over at Mamoru, knowing that he'd most definitely heard her as Minako swiveled back towards her, entirely without regret.

Her playful expression sobered slightly, and she nodded. "Yes, actually," she replied. "I wanted to let you know that we're not meeting tonight. I was nearby, so I thought I'd stop in rather than text. Ami-chan has some crazy boring school stuff, and Makoto is totally swamped with the bakery opening up next week. So, we're going to meet tomorrow instead."

Usagi blinked, inwardly flinching because she'd totally forgotten that she was supposed to meet the others at Hikawa shrine after work today. Minako sighed, quickly reading the expression Usagi hadn't been able to mask in time.

"You forgot, didn't you?" she accused with exasperation. "Usagi, I swear you would lose your arms if they weren't attached."

Usagi didn't bother to correct the mangled idiom, grimacing sheepishly as Minako hopped off her stool with a very Luna-like long-suffering sigh.

"Well, either way, you're off the hook tonight! You know, which is good 'cause I have a date!" she exclaimed, then turned towards Mamoru. "It was nice seeing you again, Chiba-san," she proclaimed loudly. "Glad to see you ditched the green jacket!"

Before Mamoru or Usagi could respond, with a casual toss of her hair and a wink that fluttered long black lashes, she bounced out of the arcade as quickly as she'd arrived.

Usagi's gaze remained fixed on the door for a moment before she took a deep breath, slowly turning towards Mamoru, totally prepared for the look on his face. He didn't have to say a word, signature grin firmly fixed in place, eyebrows raised in question.

Usagi scowled, scrunching her nose in dismay. "Don't even say it, baka!" she exclaimed preemptively. "Don't even think about letting it go to your head!"

His smirk only widened as he leaned back, lifting his half-filled coffee cup from the counter. "I'm not sure what you mean," he replied, taking a deliberate sip. Usagi's eyes narrowed suspiciously when he didn't continue, turning back to his book instead, slowly flipping the page.

Then, just as she moved away, as if he'd timed it perfectly, he cleared his throat, and without looking up, he continued. "Mamo-chan _and_ handsome in two days, though? Careful, Odango Atama, or I might be inclined to believe that you actually like me."

Usagi let out a strangled gasp of indignation, her cheeks burning with what she was sure was a not-so-lovely crimson red. She was so _busted._ "What did I say!" she hissed, "Don't let it go to your head! So, okay, _maybe_ I might have said that you were handsome, like _one_ time," more like a thousand times, along with sexy, smart, dreamy… "but I also think Ling-san who lives down the hall is handsome, and he's like eighty, so…"

She stopped, exhaling slowly in resignation when he said nothing, just continued to silently observe her with amusement etched into his expression.

With a sigh of defeat, she lifted the coffee pot, stepping towards him to fill his cup again. "If you're not careful, baka," she murmured with a shake of her head. "I might just start calling you Mamo-chan _permanently."_

It was a joke, of course. She was only teasing him. Mamo-chan was hardly appropriate, and it was something she probably would have called him if he'd been her boyfriend when she was a teenager. It was totally infantile and cutesy, and there was _no_ way that the endearment _wouldn't_ bother him. When she lifted her gaze, her eyes locked onto his, her breath caught in her throat. There was something raw and vulnerable in his eyes that she'd _never_ seen before.

Without a hint of the teasing demeanor he'd sported before, he shrugged. "I like Mamo-chan."

He said it so seriously, just barely above a whisper. Usagi would have given anything to lean over the counter to cradle his face in her hands and kiss him with all the tenderness he so obviously deserved.

Of course the intensity of the moment broke when the bell above the entrance door chimed once again. Usagi reluctantly tore her gaze away from Mamoru's face towards the source of the sound.

Her eyes widened, and she cursed under her breath at the sight of her least favorite person striding over the threshold, blinking almond-shaped eyes that were already scanning the room for her like a predator seeking out its prey.

Usagi was an adult, and most of the time, she did reasonably well at handling awkward interactions. She defeated Cardians in her spare time, for goodness sake, but when faced with having to have another painfully uncomfortable conversation with Seijuro Ginga, she acted purely out of instinct. She instantly dropped to her knees, coffee pot still in her hand, ducking behind the counter in the hopes that if he didn't see her, he might just _go away_.

The hot, bitter brew sloshed in the pot, dangerously close to spilling over the spout, and she cringed, balancing on her haunches as she glanced up to see a partial portion of Mamoru's face looking rightfully confused.

"Usagi-chan?" Seijuro drawled, popping his head over the counter with a slanted smirk that made her shudder. "What are you doing down there?"

Usagi inwardly sighed with resignation, slowly rising, almost stumbling while trying to balance the coffee pot in her hand. God, _how embarrassing._

Her cheeks were burning hotly when she reluctantly met Seijuro's gaze. "I, um, dropped something," she murmured with a forced smile as she carefully placed the pot back in its holder. "What can I get for you, Seijuro-san?"

He chuckled, and she suppressed a grimace as he made a show of slowly sitting into the stool just two down from Mamoru. He leaned forward, taking up as much space around him as possible in a way that Usagi found annoying.

"How about dinner and a movie?"

He said it so smoothly, in what she supposed could have been charming, but this was not the first time that Usagi had needed to turn him down. She laughed uncomfortably, stepping back from the counter to put as much space between them as possible.

"I'm sure I've already told you that I'm going to be busy for the foreseeable future, Seijuro-san," she replied, her tone crisp. "What about a milkshake? I make a killer milkshake."

He ignored her, almost as if he hadn't heard a word she'd said. "I really like that shirt on you, Usagi-chan," he murmured in a way that made Usagi cringe.

"Thanks," Usagi mumbled in response, though she plucked up the apron she'd left on the counter and made a point of putting it on.

Seijuro smiled, opening his mouth to respond, but he was promptly interrupted.

"I don't think I've seen you here before," Mamoru interjected sharply. "Who are you?"

Seijuro and Usagi turned their gazes toward Mamoru, who sat, shoulders squared and tense, jaw clenched tightly, his expression darkened in a way that Usagi hadn't seen in a long time.

Usagi cleared her throat, drawing Mamoru's attention away from Seijuro onto her. "This is Ginga Seijuro," she answered before Seijuro could, her tone laced with double meaning. "Natsumi-san's brother."

Mamoru's eyes widened slightly with the realization, and his expression was cold, a little condescending as he turned back to Seijuro. " _That_ makes a whole lot of sense."

Seijuro frowned, bristling with irritation. "What is that supposed to mean?"

Mamoru ignored him, opting to turn back to Usagi instead. "Usagi, didn't you say you'll finish your shift early today?"

Usagi was embarrassed that she didn't instantly grasp what Mamoru was doing, and she frowned, confused before Mamoru sighed with exasperation. "I know you're in a rush. Why don't you go get your stuff from the back, and I can watch the counter until Kaori gets here."

When it clicked that Mamoru was giving her an excuse to escape Seijuro, she straightened, nodding so vehemently her hair whipped across her cheeks with the movement. "Yes!" she blurted gratefully as she turned towards Seijuro, whose expression was sullen. "It was nice to see you again, Seijuro-san!" she lied, scrambling back.

She not-so-gracefully twisted around, escaping into the small break room allotted for employees only. Sighing, Usagi lingered nervously in the back for ten minutes before she risked popping her head over the threshold.

When Seijuro was nowhere to be found, the seat he'd been sitting in now vacant, she tentatively stepped back into the room, moving cautiously towards the counter. Mamoru was still there, cheek propped in the palm of his hand, elbow perched on the counter, reading the book in front of him.

"He's gone," Mamoru reassured without looking up, and Usagi exhaled, relieved to have dodged another Seijuro bullet.

"Thanks," she sighed, nervously tucking a tendril of hair behind her ear. "Guess when it comes to the Ginga siblings, we can rescue each other."

Mamoru did look up then, and his expression was hard to read as he studied her face. "I'll always be here to rescue you, Usagi," he vowed so seriously, her heart felt like it stopped, breath caught in her throat. "But a wise girl once told me that when someone is making you uncomfortable, it's okay to speak up and tell them so."

Usagi blushed, fingers fiddling nervously with her hair. "Yeah, I guess I _did_ say that," she replied, lips quirked up into a grin. "Looks like we both need a lesson in communication."

His responding smile took her breath away. It was soft, tender, and he was looking at her like she'd always wanted him to. Maybe she was wrong; she might have been misreading this entirely, but Usagi had never been one to shy away from her emotions.

"Mamoru, would you…" she faltered, cleared her throat, and shifted her weight from one foot to the other as she mustered the courage to do what she'd always wanted to do since she'd accepted that she was falling in love with him. "Would you like to go on a date with me?"

She must have surprised him because he didn't answer right away, expression painfully unreadable as she inwardly cringed. God, had she read this all wrong?

"Um, I mean, not really a date, but maybe a walk? To hang out when I'm done with my shift?" she laughed uncomfortably. "Or, you know, not? That's okay, too. You know how I am sometimes, I—"

"Yes," he interjected, eyes fixed firmly onto her face. "I would like that very much."

Usagi nodded, heart racing, barely able to suppress her excitement. _Oh, my God_. Had that really just happened? Had she just asked Mamoru Chiba out on a date? Had he actually said _yes?_ She was a bit of a mess, internally screaming with excitement and a tinge of disbelief. Any coherent response that she might have been to formulate tangled on her tongue, and so instead, she nodded again, her face burning hotly as she abruptly turned away in a daze.

Her hands trembled when she started working again, clumsily fumbling with glasses, tripping over her own feet in a way that hadn't happened since that growth spurt before middle school when her legs seemed to have grown so endlessly long overnight.

She tried her hardest not to look over at Mamoru, but it was difficult given that she could feel him watching her, too. Butterflies of anticipation and excitement fluttered in the cavity of her chest. Something was definitely different, and maybe, Mamoru might finally be ready to have someone else in his life?

She tried not to get her hopes up. How often had she watched Mamoru let his guard down, smile at her, on the precipice of laughing, only to watch him retreat just as quickly as if he somehow didn't deserve a modicum of happiness? Usagi was an optimist, though, and she glanced up at the clock. The looming afternoon was going to stretch out into _forever_ at this rate, and she had no idea how she was going to get through the rest of her shift.

oOo

Just as she thought, her Monday shift, despite being an hour late, was the longest shift she'd ever worked since becoming a Crown employee. The afternoon dragged on slowly, and by the time the stupid needle on the clock finally ticked onto 4, and Kaori, who was never late, swept through the door to take over, Usagi was practically vibrating with nervous anticipation.

Mamoru had diligently waited for her. When they stepped through the automatic doors of the Crown side by side, their arms practically touching, Usagi was so nervous she suddenly found herself babbling non-stop.

She knew she was saying too much, but she couldn't _help_ it. She was a _freaking_ disaster, spewing out all of the things that he probably didn't even really care. Like how nervous she was to go back to school, or how her favorite blanket was on its final stretch but she didn't have the heart to replace it. It was a range of topics that fell from her lips as they strolled, dodging pedestrian traffic, without an intended destination in mind.

When she finally took a breath, she felt the dull heat of embarrassment as it fanned across her face with the horrifying realization that she'd barely let him get a word in edgewise.

She slowed, vaguely taking note of her surroundings as she glanced up at Mamoru. For the most part, he looked entirely at ease as he walked beside her. Though his expression was unreadable, because this man had the uncanny ability to give practically _nothing_ away, he _did_ look more relaxed than she'd ever seen him before.

Usagi stopped talking, smiling suddenly because now _she_ was the one totally acting weird, and besides, this was _still_ Mamoru. Sure, he was smirking less and smiling more, and there was a very exciting and real possibility that he might actually like her as more than a friend, but this was still the same teasing, broody baka she'd fallen in love with.

With that realization, the tension seeped out of her shoulders, and her grin widened, feeling giddy as she twisted slightly towards him. "Jeez, Mamoru-baka," she teased, purposely knocking her shoulder into his arm. "Why did you let me ramble on so much like a total idiot?"

He raised an eyebrow, the corner of his lip curling up ever so slightly into that signature, slightly-condescending but oh-so-sexy half-smirk. "There wasn't an opportunity," he teased, and Usagi rolled her eyes, prepared to retort, but then his smirk softened into another one of those disarming smiles, and he shrugged. "And I didn't want to. I like hearing about your life, Usagi."

Usagi blinked, averted her gaze onto the sidewalk in front of her, flushing with pleasure. She resisted the urge to squeal in delight because was this _actually_ happening right now?

They continued in comfortable silence for a moment, moving slowly beneath a canopy of blooming cherry blossom trees that hemmed the sidewalk when she glanced back at Mamoru, who looked like he was deep in thought, contemplating something important.

She smiled, determined to pull him out of his thoughts. "So, what do you do when you aren't brooding, at school, or mercilessly teasing odangoed girls in the arcade?"

His gaze met hers, and he arched an eyebrow in amusement. "I didn't brood _that_ much," he defended lightly, the corners of his lips curling up ever so slightly as if he was trying to suppress a smile. "I think you're exaggerating."

Usagi snorted in disbelief. "We've had this conversation already," she reminded, haughtily flicking a ribbon of golden hair over her shoulder. "Like I said, the Crown was near shambles from lack of customers because of fear of your broodiness. _Luckily,_ I was brave enough to take you on."

Mamoru chuckled, shaking his head, and Usagi's heart soared. She wanted to make him laugh again, and again, _and again_. It was such a different contrast to the Mamoru who had first hissed Odango Atama to the middle schooler who'd carelessly tossed a test paper at his head so long ago. She beamed, practically bouncing on the balls of her feet with the realization.

"Anyways, you still haven't answered my question," she quipped brightly. "What does non-brooding Mamoru Chiba do with his free time?"

At first, Mamoru was silent, contemplative, and Usagi's smile faded when he slowed before coming to a complete stop in the middle of the sidewalk. She frowned, halting in her tracks, turning towards him, and her brow furrowed in confusion.

He seemed to be mulling over his response carefully. Then, with an almost imperceptible nod, his expression softened, and he smiled. "Oh, I don't know. I guess I spend a lot of time following Sailor Moon," he replied, tone light and teasing. "She's pretty clumsy, you know."

Usagi blinked, blonde brows arching in surprise, only momentarily confused before she was suddenly feeling indignant. "Hey!" she exclaimed without thinking. "I thought you said you didn't think Sailor Moon was clumsy! And that she always gets up and fights and stuff!"

Mamoru shrugged, grinning wryly. "You're right, she definitely does. Her justice speeches before battling are a bit overkill, though, don't you think?"

If Usagi had stopped for just a moment to think, to study the teasing, almost expectant glint in Mamoru's eyes, she would have realized that he was getting at something. As it stood, she was emotionally driven, and the fact that the love of her life was mocking Sailor Moon, _who was her_ , regardless if he was joking or not, made her indignant enough to stupidly forget that he didn't know that she was Sailor Moon.

She threw caution to the wind, thoroughly insulted, lifting her chin defiantly. "Her speeches are _not_ overkill," she defended proudly. "I think they're actually quite clever. _Totally_ badass."

Mamoru chuckled, his smile widening as he nodded indulgently. "Yes, you're definitely right again," he agreed readily, taking the bluster out of what Usagi was going to say next, and she stopped, exhaling slowly with a frown knitting onto her brow. "Tuxedo Mask's are _way_ worse."

Usagi shook her head in protest because, yes, Tuxedo Mask did have a specific brand of flair, but he was always there when Sailor Moon needed him, and sometimes his speeches distracted the youma or the Cardian enough that the Senshi could get the upper hand. Besides it wasn't like-

She froze, suddenly, inhaling sharply because she couldn't recall a time that the media had ever managed to catch one of their speeches. Unless he had ever been a victim of the monsters she fought, then there was _no_ way that Mamoru should have even known that they were touting the staples of justice and love before battling.

She shook her head, heart rate steadily increasing because clearly, she was missing something? How could Mamoru possibly _know-_

When she focused on his face, looking for the answers that she was having a hard time figuring out, her breath caught in her throat. If she looked really carefully, she could almost imagine a white domino mask concealing his features, and really, wasn't Mamoru's profile chiseled in a way that closely resembled...

Oh, my God. _Oh, my God._

Usagi was not good at hiding her thoughts and emotions, and it was evident by Mamoru's expression that he'd stood there observing her, patiently waiting for her to connect the dots. The moment that she came to the shocking realization that she still couldn't wrap her head around enough to even _think_ about, he smiled, lifting his palm into the air.

"Did I mention that roses are my favorite flower?"

Usagi's eyes widened, and she gasped, her fingers flying to her lips in shock when Mamoru Chiba, quiet, reserved, smirking _, love-of-her-life_ _Mamoru Chiba_ conjured a plump, ruby red rose out of thin air.

It felt like time stopped, and if she'd had her wits about her, if she'd had more time to wrap her head around the fact that Mamoru was, in fact, the masked vigilante who always came to her rescue, she might have been prepared for what happened next.

Mamoru, gazing at her expectantly, the sharp-edged rose still held firmly in his grasp was caught off guard too when the screaming started.

She blinked, tearing her gaze from Mamoru's as if in a daze towards the sound, stunned, frozen in place, when a cackling, house-sized Cardian barrelled through the busy intersection. Cars squealed to a stop, some swerving into others, the sound of metal scraping across metal piercing through the air with sharp intensity.

This Cardian was unlike any that she'd ever seen before; enormous, almost corporeal as steam-like pods trailed in a sickly display behind it, scooping and lifting victims that couldn't run fast enough, enveloping them in what looked like webbed cocoons.

She knew that the Cardian had fixed its sunken-in, deformed face on her when it turned, cackling loudly. "DreamWeaver!" It roared, and Usagi knew in that instant that she'd waited too long. There was no way she was going to escape in time.

"No, DreamWeaver! You idiot! _Him,_ not _her!"_

She wasn't sure who had screamed the order, but she closed her eyes, instinctively lifting her arms to protect herself against the attack.

"Usako!"

Before the monster could strike, she was enveloped in Mamoru's arms, hauled against his chest as the pod descended, surrounding them both. She barely had time to curl her arms around his waist, tears welling in her eyes when the pressure became unbearable, and everything went black.

oOo


	5. In which the 'l' word never sounded so sweet/ PART 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Hello, lovely readers!
> 
> Thank you SO much for all of the beautiful reviews and the follow and faves! I really wanted to post all of these on time, but unfortunately, the completion of this fic will take me past this week. BUT, It will be completed.
> 
> So, for the next theme, I chose AU. This was a little more complicated to integrate, so I had to be creative. It's a little bit out there, so I really hope you guys like it?
> 
> It ended up being much longer than anticipated, so this chapter was split into 2 parts.
> 
> Thank you to NinjetteTwitch without whom I never would have figured out this outline, and RogueAlly, who betaed and made sure I didn't delete it!

**Chapter 5 -AU**

_**Part 1** _

**In which the 'L' word never sounded so sweet**

Usagi felt like she was floating, weightless, as she flailed through an array of images that niggled on the edges of her mind but never quite solidified. They were familiar, but not _hers_. She only caught glimpses. White silk, marble pressed against her back, fingers weaving through strands of midnight hair, and eyes so blue she drowned in them.

For a moment, she remembered what she'd wanted. What, to some degree, she _still_ wanted. It was to be like all of the others. To live freely with the one she loved. _Normal._

She chased that feeling as if it were _real_. She pursued it on the edges of foreign sands, twirled in the rainbow beams of crystal caverns, and laughed under a thousand burning fairy lights that illuminated her smile. Always, she was in his arms, curled tightly in his protective embrace, dizzy from the heady feeling of being so totally reckless, so without fear of consequences.

She reached for it, grazing it with her fingers until suddenly, it was torn from her, and grief-stricken, she screamed, crumpling to her knees. She was dry heaving in the ruins of something that should have been hers, praying for something she wanted, _something she'd lost_.

It wasn't _her_ who had summoned these images. She hadn't been the one to pull them from where they lay dormant. The tendrils of darkness that clawed them forth cackled loudly, sifting through them, violating her privacy in a way that constricted her throat and paralyzed her with fear.

When the monster, the _DreamWeaver,_ retreated, the images were just dreams, and they disappeared like a wisp, forgotten once again. Usagi's eyelids fluttered open. She jolted upright, inhaling sharply, gasping for air as if she'd gone hours without breathing.

She was disoriented, squinting as if hungover in the light piercing through a partially covered window, pouring into a bedroom she did not recognize and blinding her.

Usagi hissed through her teeth, clenching her eyes shut as she dropped her head into her hands, waiting for the queasy feeling in her stomach to settle. She took a moment, breathing deeply to try and sort through the mess in her head. First, it registered that she was tangled in the soft sheets of a bed that wasn't hers, and secondly, if her foot colliding with something warm was any indication, _she was not alone._

Her eyes flew open, alarmed because hadn't she _just_ been on a sidewalk with Mamoru? _Mamoru_ , the smirking baka that she loved, who'd just casually conjured a _freaking_ rose before the Cardian attacked?

She blinked in quick, rapid-fire motions to help her vision adjust to the light more quickly as she kicked at the sheets in a fit of sheer panic. Where was she? Had the Senshi rescued her?

Except, she didn't recognize this as any of the rooms that belonged to her fellow Senshi. In her urgency to untangle herself from the blankets-as well as the ungodly amount of hair that was, for some reason, completely unbound-her arm gave out beneath her, and she tumbled sideways with a yelp. She didn't fall onto the mattress, though; instead, she collided with the hard expanse of a chest that, with a furtive peek upwards, _definitely_ belonged to none other than Mamoru.

She was startled, confused, and she stopped struggling for a moment, curling her fingers into the faded grey t-shirt that she'd never in her life seen Mamoru wear before.

She was practically splayed across him, and she swallowed, heart beating so fast she was sure it was going to explode from the cavity of her chest. She flicked her gaze to his face; her breath caught in her throat because he was sleeping.

Her face was mere inches from his, close enough that her breath rustled the messy fringe of hair that fell over his forehead as she admired unbelievably long lashes that dusted the tops of his cheeks. His chiseled features were relaxed and so at ease in his sleep, she longed to trace the sculpted curve of his jaw. He was so beautiful that, admittedly, for a moment, she totally forgot that she'd gone from being devoured by a creepy Cardian to waking up in bed beside Mamoru.

Of course, by the _time_ that she realized how incredibly creepy this probably looked, Mamoru's lashes fluttered, chest expanding on a sharp inhale of breath beneath her fingers as his eyes flew open much like hers had moments ago.

Usagi sucked in a breath of anticipation, so enthralled that she didn't even move. Seriously, she was _completely_ ridiculous. She most definitely should have pulled back, apologized, and explained that the reason she was plastered on top of him was a complete _accident._ That she'd tried to get up, but she'd fallen. Instead, because she apparently lacked common sense, she tilted her head to the side, watching, completely mesmerized. He blinked, brow creasing ever so slightly before sleepy, cobalt blue eyes swept over her face.

Usagi frowned because something was different. He was still Mamoru, but somehow, his eyes were lightly creased in the corners where they hadn't been before, and was he… _was he older_?

Of course she was distracted by that new realization, so she _still_ didn't pull away like the creepy lovestruck stalker that she was, and when she finished studying his face in an awed daze, her eyes met his. He wasn't shocked, scandalized, or pushing her away with disgust. He simply lifted his brow in question, the corner of his lips curling up in amusement.

"Hi," he whispered, and the sound was hoarse, breathless in a way that made Usagi shudder with pleasure, but also managed to promptly snap her out of her daze.

She gasped, her cheeks burning hot with embarrassment as she scrambled back. He hissed through his teeth in pain when her elbow slammed into his stomach, and she flailed, inwardly cursing her impossibly long limbs and an endless amount of hair as she flipped, rolling off of him, yelping as she fell onto her back on the floor beside the bed with a dull thud.

It knocked the wind out of her, and she groaned, willing the room to stop spinning as she blinked to focus her blurred vision.

"Are you okay?"

Scrunching her nose in dismay, she craned her neck slightly to the side to fix her gaze onto Mamoru, who was peering down at her over the edge of the mattress, expression laced with concern.

" _No,"_ Usagi moaned miserably.

Mamoru smirked as he gracefully slipped from the bed, all sinuous lithe _perfection_ as he held his hand out to help her up. She grimaced, wondering how he could manage to be so calm and collected even though he'd opened his eyes to her splayed out over him in some _random_ bedroom.

Accepting his outstretched hand, she gasped as he hoisted her up, carefully steadying her on her feet. His fingers lingered on her waist for a moment before he cleared his throat, red blooming on his cheeks, and dusting the tips of his ears as he quickly took a step back.

Swiping hair out of her face with irritation, Usagi took a moment to study her surroundings again. As far as bedrooms go, this one was pretty standard. Clearly, a master bedroom, big and spacious, filled with polished pieces of furniture. It was almost like she was standing in her parent's bedroom. However, she noted manga spread out on the dresser, women's clothes sort of tossed haphazardly over the bench at the end of the bed and across a pretty antique chair in the corner of the room tucked beside a full-length mirror perched on a stained cherry-wood stand.

Actually, she kind of _liked_ the room, though she couldn't for the life of her figure out whose it was.

"What's happening right now?" she asked, tone rising an octave in pitch with panic. She slid her gaze back onto Mamoru, eyes wide with confusion. "Where are we?"

He opened his mouth as if to speak, then snapped it shut, hesitating, swallowing first as he raked his fingers through his hair. "I don't know," he replied, and she frowned because it was strange to see Mamoru ruffled suddenly, blushing deeply, clearly doing his best to look at everything _but her._

She was a little confused, but she shook her head, took a deep breath, and closed her eyes for a second as if to ground herself. "Okay," she said, determined to figure this out. "I remember leaving the arcade with you, and then…" her eyes widened, _remembering,_ and she gasped. "Oh, my God. Are you Tuxedo Mask? Did I _dream that?"_

He did meet her gaze then, nodding slowing, his expression guarded as he studied her face carefully. Lips pressed together tightly, fixed firmly on hers as if he were afraid to look anywhere else.

Usagi frowned, still reeling as she mulled it over. How could she not have _known_ that he was Tuxedo Mask? It was so obvious now that she knew, and if she really thought about it, it was such a _relief_. But did _he_ know that she was Sailor Moon? There was so much that they needed to talk about, but, right now, she needed to figure out where they were.

She nodded, strengthening her resolve, "Okay, we're going to talk about _that_ , but _first_ ," she twisted around, hair slipping all over the place with the movement, to search for some kind of clue. "There has to be _something…"_

Her face lit up when her gaze halted on a beautiful white vanity table, and she dashed around the bed with excitement because there was a pink phone in a plastic bunny case that looked very much like hers sitting on top of it.

She plucked it from amidst a messy array of hair products and cosmetics, feeling triumphant because this was _definitely_ her phone, but when she tapped an index finger on the glass, she sighed, deflated, because the screen didn't light up. It was dead.

Grumbling, she chewed her lower lip with irritation, glancing back up at Mamoru. "It's dead," she muttered, and he nodded when her eyes met his, clearing his throat, quickly averting his gaze again. Usagi frowned, "Help me find a charger?"

He was quick to nod again, and he seemed a bit frazzled as he moved towards the bedside table, moving some reading glasses and some enormous book titled precious gems aside. "Here," he croaked, holding up the end of a battered iPhone charger.

Usagi's frown deepened as she swept forward, and he moved out of her way so quickly that he almost _fell_ backward. She was starting to feel a little hurt now, and she swallowed, her throat constricted a little, as she plugged in her phone.

When she swiveled around to face him, he quickly looked away, though he'd _clearly_ been watching her. _What the hell?_

"What?" she demanded, thoroughly insulted. They'd been okay before they'd somehow been attacked and woken up here, hadn't they? Given that they were in a strange, unknown situation, she really should have been concentrating more on where they were, why she couldn't remember getting here, rather than how he was hurting her feelings by being distant. When, before his confession, she'd felt like _maybe…_ "What's wrong?" she whispered, her voice breaking with emotion. "What did I do?"

His head snapped back towards her, expression startled. "Nothing!" he blurted hurriedly. "There's nothing wrong!"

Usagi scowled, "Then, why won't you look at me? I'm confused too, Mamo-chan," she replied, the nickname slipping so easily from her lips she didn't even think about it. "Why are you giving me the cold shoulder?"

His eyes widened, and he shook his head, grimacing as if pained, "No, Usa, it's not _that_ ," he croaked, raking his hand through his hair. "It's just.."

He trailed off, and Usagi sighed, annoyed now. "It's just _what_?"

He flinched, "You're wearing my shirt, Usako," he swallowed, blushing. "And I'm pretty sure that's all you're wearing?"

Usagi started, inhaling sharply with surprise. She swiveled around so quickly she nearly fell as she stepped towards the mirror in the corner of the room. Sure enough, she was wearing a pale pink, long-sleeved button-down shirt that she'd seen Mamoru wear on several occasions. It was buttoned up unevenly, the hem only reaching mid-thigh, and it was _definitely_ the only thing she was wearing.

Well, except for her hair, that was an absolute _mess._ She always carefully braided it before bed, but right now, it was wild, cascading down her back and over her shoulders. It was everywhere.

"What the hell?" she hissed under her breath, twisting back around, eyes wide with confusion. "What _happened?"_

Mamoru shook his head, expression remorseful and filled with desperation. "I don't know," he whispered. "I swear-"

"Stop!" Usagi interrupted sharply. She knew, suddenly, what was going on. Mamoru wasn't _avoiding_ her. Stupid baka was feeling guilty for absolutely _no_ reason.

The tension melted from her shoulders, and her heart skipped a beat, because seriously, how could she _no_ t love this guy? As if she wouldn't be _all_ over him if he gave even the tiniest inclination that he was interested.

Still, he looked devastated, and Usagi rolled her eyes, brushing her hair back before taking a tentative step towards him. "Mamo-chan," she began with a reassuring smile. "Whatever's happening right now _isn't_ your fault." She smiled brightly, jauntily propping her hand on her hip. " _Besides,_ not going to lie, but I'm pretty sure this shirt looks better on me."

The tension eased from his shoulders, and she was relieved when slowly but surely, that smirk, that beautiful teasing, signature Mamoru smirk, tentatively curved on to his kissable lips.

She nodded, appeased. "Good, now that we've settled _that_ , what do we remember?"

Mamoru was silent for a moment, but then he sighed, raking his hand over his face, leaning back against the wall. "We were talking and then-" his eyes widened, and his jaw clenched tightly. "The Cardian. It was coming for you."

Usagi nodded, vaguely recalling the details though they were fuzzy. "Yes, and I remember you grabbed me, and then…"

Mamoru frowned. "And then nothing."

Usagi exhaled, shoulders slumping, brow knit with confusion. "Well, that doesn't make any sense. None of this makes sense! How did we go from there to here?"

Mamoru shook his head, "I don't know."

Usagi nibbled her lower lip. Had the Senshi saved them? She gasped as it suddenly occurred to her that she hadn't transformed, and her hand automatically flew to her chest, searching for the brooch that wasn't there. _Shoot_! Did she have it here? If she'd misplaced it again, Luna was going to let her have it.

"I've already tried to transform," Mamoru said quietly, "I can't. So, I don't think you can either."

She scowled at him. _Whelp_ , that answered the Sailor Moon question at least. "You know?" she accused. "How long have you known?"

He smiled softly, crossing his arms. "Since the virtual reality theater."

Usagi frowned, playing back that battle in her head, and she did actually recall that Tuxedo Mask had sported a stunned look at the end there, and it _had_ bothered her, but Minako had pulled her away before she could say anything.

Usagi sighed with resignation. "What gave me away?"

His smile widened, "You mentioned that Sailor Moon had odangoes earlier. I'd never noticed before."

She grimaced, exhaling with disgust. _Ugh_ , of _course_ she would have revealed her super-secret identity over an offhand comment about her hair. "Luna is going to _kill_ me."

Mamoru raised an eyebrow in question, "Luna?"

Usagi nodded, she'd already gone this far… _besides_ , she loved Mamoru, and she didn't care what the others thought. She trusted him, too. "My cat," she replied, shrugging nonchalantly. If anything, Mamoru looked even more confused, and she laughed. "She's like our celestial Senshi mom guide? It's complicated." Her eyes narrowed as it suddenly occurred to her that Mamoru had started letting his guard down only after _that_ battle. "Wait," she snapped, "today, in the arcade, you were different. Is that only because you figured it out?"

Mamoru didn't hesitate, "I'm in love with Sailor Moon."

Usagi blinked, breath caught in her throat, stunned by his admission. "But…" she whispered, mind racing. " _I'm_ Sailor Moon."

Mamoru's expression softened, and there was nothing guarded in his eyes now. It took her breath away and washed over her in warm waves. "Yes," he replied quietly, "I know."

 _What?_ Did he mean that he only loved her now that he knew she was Sailor Moon? She had no idea what to take from that. She was going to tell him as much when the ding of her phone broke through the tension as it powered on. Grateful for the distraction, her head a jumbled mess of emotions, she stepped past Mamoru and picked it up off the side table.

When she tapped the glass, the lock screen lighting up brightly, she frowned, confused, because the background picture was not her and Makoto smiling over freshly baked castella cakes like it had been. In its place was a photo of her smiling beside Mamoru. This would have been alarming in itself because she couldn't recall ever taking that picture. However, what stunned her was that she was holding a blue-eyed little girl, propped on her hip, and perched on Mamoru's shoulders, another toddler, this one a bit older, both of them with bright pink hair.

Mamoru pushed away from the wall, expression laced with concern as he stepped towards her. "Usako?" he asked, his tone sharp and on alert. "Are you okay?"

Just then, there was a loud, jarring thud that sounded like a door opening and closing. It was followed by the squealing, chiming, bell-like sound of children's voices. Simultaneously, both she and Mamoru turned towards the source of the sound.

"Usagi! Mamoru!" The light, teasing tone that sounded suspiciously like Makoto echoed beyond the bedroom door. "Hope you guys are dressed! 'Cause I brought your kids home!"

oOo

It was surprising how quickly she could forget that she wasn't wearing clothes when faced with one of her best friends calling out in a house she didn't _recognize_ that she was here with children that didn't _exist_. Even though Mamoru stopped her to point this out before she could barrel through the door, she still only huffed, annoyed, and tugged on a pair of discarded pajama shorts with little bunnies on them that she'd found on the floor of a bedroom that wasn't hers before stumbling over the threshold.

She didn't recognize _anything,_ and she only vaguely noted her surroundings as she followed the sounds of giggling children down a set of stairs into an open, spacious living room. If she hadn't been internally freaking out-her heart palpitating with panic, completely unable to wrap her mind around the fact that Mako-chan was standing just beyond a prettily decorated genkan with a little girl cradled in her arms-she might have noted that everything about this space screamed _family._

Instead, she froze, eyes widening, blood draining from her face as she watched the little girl with tiny pink odangoes on her head as she cooed, and tugged at Makoto's glossy chestnut ponytail.

A shrill squeal of delight made her whip her head around, breathless, to face another pink-haired, odangoed girl, playing with dolls on a tatami mat near a playpen in the corner of the room.

Makoto chuckled, expression crinkling with amusement as she flicked her gaze between her and Mamoru, who'd quietly joined her. Usagi was pretty sure that he'd taken more care with his appearance than she had, but she didn't dare tear her eyes away from Makoto to find out.

"Wow, Usagi-chan," Makoto drawled, grinning widely. "Looks like you guys definitely had a great anniversary."

Usagi inhaled sharply, and Mamoru tensed behind her as Makoto stepped forward and, without a freaking warning, _handed_ her the _baby_. Usagi yelped, her fingers fumbling with panic as she tightened her grip, terrified that she was going to drop her.

As if the kid could sense her terror, the baby stilled, blinking big blue eyes up at her, flashing her a wide toothless grin before promptly digging little fingers into her hair with a strength that no baby should possess before she tugged, _hard._

Usagi cringed, trying her best to extract the little fingers firmly lodged and woven in the mess of tangled, silken strands but to no avail.

Makoto chuckled, shaking her head with amusement. "Anyways, hon," she began, placing a cute brightly-colored canvas bag on the floor. "I wish I could stay longer, but Hiroshi is holding down the bakery all by his lonesome. God knows I _love_ that man, but you know how he panics during the lunch rush."

Usagi opened her mouth, exhaling a puff of air on a stunned squeak, entirely at a loss for words because _no,_ she didn't know? Who was Hiroshi? Who was this baby currently trying to dislodge her hair from her skull?

"Wait," she managed to choke. "Mako-chan-"

"Oh!" Makoto interrupted her. "I _almost_ forgot. Mamoru, Hiroshi saw this and thought you might like it!" She pulled a book with a black cover called _Moongazing_ from a small green tote slung over her shoulder and handed it to him. "There's also an astronomy convention thing coming up that he thinks you might enjoy. He'll call you about it later."

Usagi couldn't have said a word even if she wanted to. She was a mess of jumbled emotions, dismay and utter confusion being the most prominent. Mamoru, though, didn't hesitate as he accepted the book from her. For once, his expression wasn't guarded, and he was clearly overwhelmed as he reverently ran the pad of his thumb over the embossed gold lettering on the cover.

"Thank you," he whispered politely.

Makoto shrugged, chuckling with a dismissive wave. "Ah, Mamoru-san, it's nothing," she exclaimed. "I owe you after those gardening tips. You totally saved my roses from withering into nothing."

Usagi flicked her gaze from Mamoru to Makoto, lips parted in shock when the baby cooed, another painful tug snapping her out of her daze. "Hold on," she rasped, "Mako-chan-"

Again, Makoto interrupted her. "Oh, I think Kousagi is teething. She was a little fussy last night." The chime of Makoto's phone from her pocket drew her attention, and she gasped. "Oh, baking emergency! I'm sorry, guys. I have to run!"

She leaned forward, plopping a loud, laugh-filled raspberry kiss in the crook of Kousagi's neck, and the pink-haired baby loosened her grip and giggled as Makoto pulled away. "See you later, cutie! Thanks for visiting and spending the night with me!" Then she leaned forward, peering into the living room. "Bye, Chibiusa! Love you, kid!"

The other little girl, _Chibiusa,_ looked up from her dolls with a wide grin. "Bye, obachan!" she chimed sweetly. "I love you, too!"

Makoto laughed, taking a step back, and Usagi was starting to panic. Was she leaving? She couldn't _leave_. Makoto had to have answers. She had to have some kind of insight into what was going on. _What was she going to do with these kids?_

"No, Mako-chan, I-"

But the brunette had already swiveled around, ponytail swinging, waving one last time as she disappeared, and the front door slammed shut with a loud and resounding thud that made Usagi jump.

Usagi gasped, tears of panic welling in her eyes as she twisted around to face Mamoru. He was just standing there, totally calm and collected, his gaze narrowed on Chibiusa who skipped towards them, leaned over the bag Makoto had left on the floor, and pulled out a slightly crumpled piece of paper.

Admittedly, she was super cute, cherub-cheeked, muted ruby-red eyes shining brightly as she imperiously lifted the paper to Mamoru like it was a priceless piece of gold.

"Papa, I drawed this for you," she proclaimed proudly. "It's a picture of me with a cat I petted, and I wasn't even ascared even though _Kousagi_ cried and cried when it touched her."

It was the strangest, most surreal thing Usagi had ever experienced. She watched in stunned silence as Mamoru's eyes locked onto the little girl, studying her quietly for a moment before _everything_ in his demeanor shifted. His expression softened, and he smiled indulgently, tenderly in a way that she'd never seen before.

With all the gentleness in the world, her smirking, sardonic, slightly hardened Mamoru accepted the gift with a smile. "Thank you, Chibiusa," he replied, his tone calm, grateful, awed in a way that made Usagi want to scream. How was he _not_ freaking out right now? "It's beautiful."

Chibiusa preened like a little cat under his praise, giggling with delight as she turned and slipped back into the living room to her dolls.

Kousagi, on the other hand, was starting to squirm, fussing as she pressed a tiny fist into her mouth, drooling all over her arm and Usagi's hair that was woven around it. It was too much, and tears welled in Usagi's eyes, breath stuck in her throat, and she gasped, lips going numb, vision blurring because suddenly she couldn't breathe.

Mamoru shifted his gaze onto her, and Usagi's lower lip trembled, her breaths coming in short, panicked breaths of air. She was going to fall apart. She was going to crumble into a bubbling mass of anxiety because what was _happening_ right now?

Thank God Mamoru was who he was, and as she began to falter, he swept forward, gently extracting Kousagi from her arms. She sucked in a breath of air in relief, clutching at the pink fabric of Mamoru's shirt that she was still wearing, she fell back against the door that Makoto had just left from, leaning on it for dear life.

Mamoru still had that _look._ That awe-filled look of reverence in his eyes as he carried Kousagi with a confidence she envied. He stopped beside Chibiusa, whose legs were coiled beneath her, a pink skirt of ruffles and lace splayed over her tiny lap as she played with her dolls quietly on the floor.

Usagi swallowed around the lump of emotion in her throat as Mamoru placed Kousagi into the playpen. The little girl cooed, giggling as she fell onto her back and began to gum at a toy giraffe that her little fingers managed to find tangled in a small pink blanket bunched at her feet.

She was on the verge of bursting into tears, knees buckling, when Mamoru strode back to her, hesitating for only a moment before closing the gap between them. He lifted his hand and gently cradled the side of her face.

The moment he touched her, it was as if he'd burst a bubble, and she choked on a desperate sob as she tumbled gratefully into him and coiled her fingers into the fabric of his shirt. Usagi didn't care that it was only yesterday that she hadn't been sure if they were even friends, much less thinking she would ever find herself in this kind of position with him. She leaned into his touch as if her life depended on it. He curled his arm around her waist, anchoring her against him, and it felt like he was the only reason she wasn't currently a blubbering mass of tears and despair on the floor.

"Mamo-chan, what's happening?" she gasped, trembling, feeling exhausted suddenly. "I can't figure it out."

He didn't respond right away as he held her, quietly smoothing her hair down in a way that was comforting. She'd meant it as a rhetorical question anyway. Usagi swallowed, breathing deeply to ground herself as the sound of Kousagi cooing and ChibiUsa quietly playing resonated softly in the background.

Finally, Mamoru stilled, and he sighed softly before gently pulling away from her. She felt steadier, so she let him go, wiping at the remnants of tears she hadn't realized she'd spilled with the sleeve of her shirt.

Mamoru glanced over at the girls in the living room, raking his hand over his face as if not quite believing his eyes before turning back to her. "I remember that the Cardian's name was DreamWeaver."

Usagi frowned, inhaling sharply because she did recall hearing the creature roar that out before…Her eyes widened, and she snapped them back onto Mamoru, breath caught in her throat. "You think this is a dream?" she whispered hoarsely. "That we're still trapped inside the Cardian's pod?"

Mamoru paused, his eyes sweeping over her before he exhaled slowly, deflated, almost… _disappointed_? "Yes, I think it's the only logical explanation."

Before middle school, when Luna had thrust the Moon Senshi's responsibilities upon her, there was no way that this could have ever passed as a logical explanation. Now, though, she sighed with relief because that _did_ make sense.

Pushing her hair out of her face, Usagi straightened her shoulders, feeling a little better. She took a deep breath, and their eyes locked. "So, in this dream, me and you, we're…"

She trailed off, and Mamoru's gaze slipped down to her hand that, sure enough, when she glanced down, sported a beautiful wedding ring with two delicate bands of silver and gold intricately intertwined.

"Married," he finished for her.

Though Usagi had already reached that conclusion, she sucked in a shocked breath, leaning against the door again as she glanced into the living room.

"And the girls..." she practically squeaked, mind swirling with so many different emotions, as she trailed off again.

Mamoru cleared his throat, and this time he averted his eyes, blushing as he carded his fingers through his hair. "Ours, Usako," he replied, just barely above a whisper.

The tension that preceded his response was practically unbearable, and she swallowed, quietly studying him, trying desperately to determine how he felt about all of this. She wasn't sure what to make of anything, but she couldn't deny that the thought of ending up with Mamoru in a big, pretty house, with two little girls, the Senshi clearly happy and an integral part of their lives, it _did_ kindle something warm in the cavity of her chest.

He crossed his arms, looking at everything _but_ her, and she had to wonder what was going through his head. "If this is a dream," she croaked. "Whose is it? Yours or mine?"

Mamoru's head snapped up, startled by her question, and he opened his mouth to respond, but he paused, pressing his lips shut with a sigh. "I don't know."

Usagi nodded, strangely disappointed by his answer as she strengthened her resolve, mulling it over. She paled, gasping when another thought suddenly occurred to her.

"Cardians suck their victims of energy, Mamo-chan," she whispered, voice trembling as the realization slammed into her like a ton of bricks. "If we're inside of the Cardian, then all of this is to _what_? Placate us while it sucks us dry?"

Mamoru wasn't the least bit ruffled, and it dawned on her that he'd already figured that out.

He looked like he was internally warring with himself, retreating inwardly like she'd watched him do repeatedly over the years. They'd been so close to something, _hadn't they?_ And, maybe this was only her dream. Maybe this wasn't even really Mamoru standing in front of her, looking torn and gutted in a way that broke her heart. It didn't matter, though, because she _loved_ him, and there was no way she could get them out of this by herself.

She pushed away from the door, and it was kind of impulsive, but they'd been thrust into a world where they were parents already, of all things, and really, though it had been such a short time, they'd moved past the point of these painful walls, and there was no way she was letting Mamoru put his back up.

With a soft sigh, she closed the gap between them, wrapped slender arms around his waist, buried her face against his chest, and tucked her head beneath his chin. He tensed for only a second before he reciprocated her embrace.

Breathing deeply into the hollow of his collarbone, she snuggled closer. "What do we do now, Mamo-chan?"

Before he could answer, ChibiUsa jumped to her feet, tiny fingers pinching her nose in that dramatic, over the top way that only a toddler could manage as little odangoed pigtails fluttered around her face.

"Yuck, Kousagi stinks!"

That, in Usagi's opinion, was more terrifying than anything they'd encountered so far.

oOo


	6. In which the 'L' never sounded so sweet-part 2

**Chapter 5- AU**

**Part 2**

**In which the 'L' word never sounded so sweet**

There was so much they needed to talk about. Usagi wanted to know more about how Mamoru had come to be Tuxedo Mask and why he searched for the Silver Imperium Crystal. She wanted to ask him about his strange, sort-of but _not-really_ confession of love for Sailor Moon. She _also_ wanted to kiss him senseless. However, first and foremost, they needed to figure out how they were going to get out of here before DreamWeaver managed to suck them dry.

They didn't have time to talk about any of that, though, because as it turns out, being a parent to a toddler and a teething baby was _freaking_ hard. And they barely had time to exchange two words, much less discuss all of the things they needed to.

Chibiusa liked to say no. _A lot_. And the temper tantrums that resulted from reasonable requests like, "No, don't pull your sister's hair," or " _No,_ it's not a good idea to stick your doll in the garbage disposal," completely baffled Usagi. It had only been less than four hours since Makoto had walked out the door. Already, Chibiusa had cried that she was starving and then promptly threw her plate off the table because she didn't like the gyudon Mamoru had expertly whipped up, which in Usagi's opinion was _incredibly_ delicious.

Then Mamoru, looking as disheveled and helpless as she felt, had resorted to googling everything baby and toddler related, compiling frantic lists. In the meantime, she'd attempted to handle a wailing, miserable Kousagi, who, when you did _not_ put on a diaper correctly, needed a thorough cleaning.

Of course, Usagi had no idea that you aren't _supposed_ to leave a toddler alone. So, while she was bathing a screaming Kousagi, (Oh god, the water was too hot. Had she _burned_ her? But it didn't _feel_ too hot? So why wouldn't she _stop_ crying?!) Chibiusa took it upon herself to draw all over the walls. She'd found the markers in the bag that Makoto had brought in- how was Usagi supposed to know that she should have put that away? Then Chibiusa peppered the baby powder that Usagi had carelessly left on the floor _all over the place_. The bottle had tumbled to the floor when she'd peeled off a sodden onesie off of Kousagi, while trying _not_ to gag, and she'd forgotten to pick it up again.

Usagi was convinced that this was the Cardian's plan. To suck the energy from them via little demon children that must have somehow innately sensed that they were both seriously out of their depth and had decided to run rampant.

She was _not_ cut out for this. How could _anyone_ be cut out for this?

It was almost midnight by the time they'd managed to feed, bathe, and wrangle the kids to sleep. The house was a disaster of epic proportions, and Usagi had a newfound respect for her mother.

Usagi was splayed out on the couch, still wearing Mamoru's shirt and the bunny shorts, though she had somewhat tamed her hair into something manageable when Mamoru crept down the stairs. More than likely leaving Kousagi's room, as it had taken hours, and a hundred different methods courtesy of Mamoru's research, before she'd finally settled and fallen asleep.

She groaned, grimacing as she craned her neck to the side, and her eyes locked onto Mamoru, who looked exhausted, ruffled, and for the first time, he seemed less put together than she did.

Still, when his gaze met hers, and his eyes swept over her on the couch, his expression softened, he still managed to smirk as he leaned against the doorjamb, crossing his arms.

Usagi grimaced, annoyed that he was still calm and collected while she was a frazzled, hot mess. She resisted the urge to stick her tongue out at him, deciding that was probably just as childish as the way Chibiusa had sullenly stated that she was never going to sleep because there were too many things to play with in her room.

Instead, she sighed, feeling miserable because if she'd ever had a chance with Mamoru before, it was probably totally gone now. She was a disaster, and never in a million years had she imagined letting him see her like _this_. They'd barely had one date. _One date._

She blinked, suppressing the urge to cry as she twisted her neck to look up at the ceiling and sigh forlornly instead. "That didn't go well, Mamo-chan."

He didn't say anything, but she heard the rustle of fabric and a small thud as he kicked aside one of Chibiusa's toys before his face hovered over her, blocking her view of the tiny painted crack that she'd been focusing on.

"I think we did okay," he replied, eyes soft as they fixed onto her face. "Tomorrow might be easier, we—"

Usagi's eyes narrowed, and she gasped, bolting upright, forcing him to take a step back. "Mamo-chan, we can't do this again _tomorrow,_ " she rasped, and it was irrational, but she was tired, hungry, and deep down, she sort of felt like she was a failure. "We have to find a way to get out of here. Who _knows_ how this works! The Cardian could be sucking us dry _right_ now as we speak."

Mamoru's jaw clenched, and he didn't respond for a moment, his expression hardened before he sighed, shoulders slumping as he lowered himself to sit on the couch beside her, raking his hand over his face.

"Okay," he replied, tone quiet and resigned. "What do you suggest, Usako?"

His expression was earnest, without reproach. Usagi deflated a little, curling her legs so that she was sitting cross-legged across from him, chewing her lower lip as she seriously contemplated it.

Of course, she had no idea how they were going to get out of here. It was clear from her brief interaction with Makoto, and the fact that both she and Mamoru couldn't transform, that nobody knew about the Senshi. She could only hope that the real-life Senshi were fighting the Cardian out there to rescue them at this very moment. _That_ , or she was going to have to figure out a way to wake them up.

Her brow furrowed, and she scooted forward to close the small distance between her and Mamoru. They were so close now that her knees pressed into his thigh. His breath visibly hitched as she leaned forward and, without thinking and only because it was really worth a try, she lifted her hand and pinched his arm.

He hissed through his teeth, jumping with surprise, eyes narrowed accusingly as he pulled away and rubbed the sore spot on his arm. " _Ow_ , what was—" he paused mid-sentence, catching on way quicker than she would have before his eyes widened in disbelief. " _Did you just pinch me to see if it would wake me up?"_

Usagi shrugged, unashamed, lifting her chin defiantly. "What?" she defended, laughter laced into her tone. "It was totally worth a try."

She wasn't sure what possessed her to do what she did next. Maybe it was because she was tired and the ability to think through her decisions thoroughly had waned. Or it could have been that he just looked so adorable, staring at her in disbelief the way that he was. Impulsively, with a playful grin, she leaned forward and lifted her hand to pinch him again.

This time Mamoru was quicker, and he twisted around to face her fully, capturing her wrist with his hand. His hold on her was gentle, and she probably could have pulled away if she wanted to, but when she tilted her head up and their eyes locked, the playful smile on her lips faded.

Her breath hitched, and her heart stuttered in her chest as something palpable shifted in between them. Mamoru must have felt it too because he visibly swallowed, and she released a shuddering breath. Their lips were barely inches apart, and there was something warm uncoiling in the pit of her stomach, sending tingles rippling over her body.

"Usako," he rasped, uncurling his fingers from around her wrist. "Can I kiss you?"

Internally, Usagi was jumping up and down, squealing with excitement because Mamoru wanted to kiss her. There was so much left unsaid between them, but at that moment, there was nothing she wanted more than to take Minako's advice and _finally_ kiss him senseless.

She nodded, breath hitched with anticipation, reaching for him at the same time that his hands gripped her hips, pulling her closer. Usagi wrapped her arms around his neck, and the moment that his mouth collided with hers, she melted, eyelids fluttering shut as the tension receded from her body. She sighed blissfully against his lips that molded perfectly against hers.

He was tentative at first, lips lightly moving in the gentlest of caresses. It was like he was savoring the moment as he explored the curve of her lips, fingers bunching up the fabric of her shirt as they spanned the dip of her waist with a reverence that took her breath away.

It was soft, tender, and everything she'd ever imagined as she'd spent hours wondering what it would be like to have him touch her like this.

She would have been content to kiss him like this forever, lost in the warm comfort of his embrace. When she nipped at his mouth, though, teeth teasingly grazing the plump curl of his bottom lip, he groaned, curling trembling arms around her waist, pulling her against him with a gentleness that was so heart-achingly tender. As if this was all he'd ever wanted, too. As if he couldn't fathom _ever_ letting her go.

The depth of everything she felt at that moment was overwhelming. Her breath caught on a harshly exhaled moan, and her pulse raced, body tingling as heat pooled in the pit of her stomach. She wanted to be closer, to feel _everything_.

Usagi took the initiative, sweeping her tongue along the seam of his lips, delving deeper, moving closer until she'd maneuvered herself to straddle his lap. Though this was far from her first kiss, she'd never felt anything quite like this before. She was dizzy, blissfully lost in the sensations elicited by the soft pressure of his palms as they swept beneath her shirt, pressing against the small of her back as he urged her closer.

He groaned into her mouth, and they were a flurry of hitched breathing and tangled tongues as she arched into him, desperate to be closer, to feel this way forever.

When they finally pulled apart, she was breathless, heady in the intimate aftermath of their kiss. Pressing her forehead against his, catching her breath, she couldn't help but wonder why everything about her and Mamoru felt so right _?_ As if they'd been explicitly created to belong to each other.

_Did he feel it too?_

The invading thought was unwelcome, and it prodded at that tiny thread of insecurity that had appeared when he'd admitted that he was in love with Sailor Moon. She wanted to ignore it, and typically she was reckless enough to barrel forward without thinking about the consequences. Still, after kissing him like that, after _everything,_ this was too important. _He_ was too important, and if he didn't want her as _Usagi_...

It gutted her, and she inhaled sharply, painfully ripped from the warm, comforting daze of only moments before as she blinked back tears and pulled away slightly.

Mamoru must have sensed that something had changed between them because he tensed against her, brow furrowed as he studied her face.

She suddenly felt ridiculously self-conscious, and her stupid brain chose that moment to remind her that she was a hot mess. The crumpled shirt she wore probably dirty from spending the evening wrestling with a toddler and a baby. She didn't even want to think about the way she'd barely managed to tame the mess of her hair. And here she was, straddling his lap, every flaw on display, and for the first time, she sort of wished that she was covered in Sailor Moon's protective glamour.

Hadn't Tuxedo Mask always shown a preference for Sailor Moon rather than Mamoru for Usagi?

Usagi lowered her eyes, lashes fluttering, as she focused on the hollow of his collarbone instead of the confusion etched into his expression. It was silly to be jealous of herself. So stupid. Once the thought took root in her head she couldn't dismiss it, though. And really, in a world that was completely fake, crafted from her dreams, wasn't that feeling the only thing that was real?

Mamoru shifted his weight beneath her, sitting up, straightening his shoulders. "Usako," he rasped, and Usagi tilted her head up, gaze snapping back onto his face because there was fear and desperation laced into his tone. "I'm sorry, I didn't..." he trailed off, pressing his lips together, his expression so miserable that Usagi frowned, confused by his reaction. "Did I do something wrong?"

Usagi's breath hitched, heart twisted into knots. She didn't understand why Mamoru's first inclination was to blame himself because she'd pulled back. She'd always known that there was something that weighed on him heavily. It tugged on her heartstrings and elicited something so fiercely protective inside of her. If only…

She swallowed, cheeks flushed, blinking back tears. "Mamo-chan," she choked. "Why would you… _of course_ you didn't do anything wrong. That was amazing… I think you're _amazing..._ I just…" she stopped, throat constricted because why couldn't she just shut up?

She was in a dream world, and she was kissing Mamoru Chiba. _Mamoru Chiba,_ the man she'd been in love with since high school, and she was _ruining_ it. Who cares if he loved Sailor Moon more than her? Except that was clearly stupid, because she _was_ Sailor Moon, and—

" _Hey_ ," he interrupted her downward spiral, frowning as he lifted his hands that had been loosely settled on her hips and gently framed her face instead. "What's going through your head right now, Usa?"

His eyes, filled with concern, searched her face, and though she tried, she really, really _did_ , she couldn't help but note that his expression was so _open_ now, vulnerable in a way that he would never have shared with her before he discovered that she was Sailor Moon.

She knew, deep down, that this wasn't _entirely_ fair, but she couldn't help but feel hurt.

She swallowed, lower lip quivering when she bravely met his gaze. "I'm not Sailor Moon," she blurted without thinking. It's not what she _meant,_ of course, and Mamoru's brows raised in surprise. She cringed at her inability to be coherent when her emotions were a jumbled mess. "I mean I _am_ Sailor Moon, of course I am. It's just, I'm not _only_ Sailor Moon. I'm Usagi too? And I _like_ Usagi? I just… I want you to like Usagi, too."

Clearly, she'd stunned him, and he blinked, brow furrowing in confusion. "I…," he paused as if carefully considering his words. "I'm confused, Usako. Do you think I don't like… _you_?"

Usagi blushed, flinching, feeling so silly, but she'd come too far already to back down, and this was important. He had to know how important it was. "You said you loved Sailor Moon, Mamo-chan."

He nodded slowly, frown deepening, "Y _ou're_ Sailor Moon, Usako."

Usagi sighed, frustrated because this was coming out all wrong, and he wasn't getting what she was trying to say. "No, _I know that._ I'm trying, ugh, I just…" she stopped, took a deep breath, did her best to quell the tendency that she had to babble when she was nervous, and steadily met his eyes. "Look, this is important," she proclaimed, poking him in the chest. "Like _really_ important. So, I just want to make sure that when you say you love me, it's not just because you found out I was Sailor Moon."

His eyes widened slightly, and he blinked, quietly scrutinizing her face in a way that made Usagi blush. "Usako," he began calmly, his expression unreadable. "I fell in love with Sailor Moon because everything about her is inherently beautiful. Her compassion, willingness to fight for others, and the way she always perseveres."

Mamoru paused, and Usagi's heart stopped, breath caught in her throat. Then he smirked _that_ smirk, sweeping the pad of his thumb along her cheekbone to wipe away a tear she hadn't realized that she'd shed. "But, _you_ are Sailor Moon, Usako, and I love _you._ I love the silly, bright-eyed girl who's always late, who trips over her own feet, _a lot_ , but also makes sure that the broody baka at the counter in the arcade isn't always alone, even while she passionately defends the lives of orphaned children that she doesn't even know."

Usagi, stunned, couldn't find the words to adequately convey the warmth that blossomed in her chest or the way her heart soared when his words registered. Mamoru's smirk turned into a sheepish smile as he blushed.

He swallowed, clearing his throat as he lifted his hands away from her face. His fingertips grazed across her cheek for a moment, hovering, his expression almost mournful before he dropped them to her hips again. "I know that I'm not always good with words, but I _do_ love you, and I'm not expecting anything in return, Usako. I swear I just—"

Usagi snorted, promptly interrupting him. " _Stop_ ," she snapped. "I'm totally head over heels in love with you, baka. I have been for like, ever. You can go ahead and not expect anything in return all that you want, but there's _nothing_ you can do about it. So—"

She squealed when he pulled her against him, his lips crashing onto hers with a fervency that hadn't been there before. She was more than happy to reciprocate, sighing blissfully into his mouth as his lips moved beneath hers. She curled her arms around his neck as his hands slipped beneath her shirt again, tantalizingly trailing up her sides. His fingers fluttered across her skin in a way that made her tremble with anticipation as she arched closer, moaning against his lips.

Of course, she'd forgotten that she was trapped inside a fake world where they were parents to young children. She was promptly reminded of that, though, when Kousagi's wail pierced through her dulled senses. They pulled apart abruptly, gasping, just as Chibiusa called down the stairs.

"Mama, Papa? Can I have a glass of water?"

Usagi's expression crumpled with dismay, but Mamoru tenderly caressed the side of her face. "It's okay, Usako," he reassured. "We'll figure this out."

She grimaced, wrinkling her nose with disappointment, but nodded as she pushed away and flopped back on the couch with an exaggerated sigh.

Mamoru rolled his eyes, though he was smiling, and when he stood, he held out his hand to help her up.

His expression was reassuring, comforting, and for the first time since this whole Cardian mess, she felt like they were going to get out of this just fine. Of course, Kousagi's warning wail intensified into a shrill cry of distress, and both she and Mamoru winced as she accepted his hand and he hauled her to her feet.

Whatever happened, at least she knew that she wasn't in this alone.

oOo

He'd _totally_ left her _alone_.

Chibiusa squealed, and it startled Kousagi into a high-pitched wail, only slightly muffled behind the door of the little kitchen pantry that she'd discovered almost right away. Usagi groaned, sliding down the door, in the dark, clutching a tiny kinoko no yama chocolate biscuit she'd found in a box with other assorted treats tucked away behind the rice.

Apparently, dream-Usagi had a propensity to squirrel away secret junk food, and she quietly saluted her in thanks now as she shoved the tiny mushroom-shaped cookie into her mouth.

Chibiusa called for her, and Usagi sighed, ready to admit that she hadn't been prepared for this. Not even a little bit, and she blinked back tears, sniffling dejectedly because she'd wanted to prove to herself that she was capable of taking care of two kids alone, no matter how temporary it was.

Grimacing, Usagi's shoulders slumped with a sigh of resignation because, okay, _maybe_ this was just a tiny bit her fault?

After last night's steamy interlude, feeling like she could conquer the world, but still reeling with disbelief because _holyfreakinghell_ , _Mamoru Chiba_ had confessed that he was in love with _her,_ she'd been so sure that she was going to wake up today to the smiling faces of the Senshi who'd just finishing slicing DreamWeaver into bits.

That, unfortunately, is _not_ what happened. She'd woken up exhausted, tired from simultaneous knee and elbow japs administered by Chibiusa, who seemed to possess a tiny magical contortionist's flexibility. She'd crept into the bed that Usagi only tumbled into after Mamoru fell asleep beside Kousagi's crib, holding her hand because the drooling, hiccuping girl refused to settle without him.

This morning, they were in rough shape; tired children were, apparently, unbearably irrational— though really, Usagi couldn't fault them for that as she was feeling pretty damn irrational too. If she could have stomped her foot and thrown herself onto the floor in dramatic fashion because Mamoru gave her the green cup instead of the pink one, which is precisely what happened with Chibiusa, she probably would have.

Mamoru, at least, had the good sense to suggest that they alternate watching the kids so they could shower. At first, Usagi was hurt, the feeling pretty much instantaneous and totally coming from a place of sleep-deprivation and rampant emotions. Did he think less of her because she was still the hot disgusting mess that she'd been when they'd woken up yesterday? His shirt, decidedly way less cute _a whole day later_? Oh, God. He hated her now, and he _had to—_

Luckily, she had the good sense to curb her thoughts, stopping her downward spiral mid-twist as she glanced up at Mamoru to note that he, too, was not in much better shape than she was, and a shower and the chance to brush her teeth really _would_ feel nice.

So, instead of bursting into tears because it was totally and completely unfair that he had to see her like this in the infancy of their relationship, no matter how unconventional it was, she smiled gratefully and nodded instead.

In all of his glorious perfection, Mamoru didn't even complain when her shower took at least 45 minutes longer than his, though it couldn't be helped with how long it took to brush the snarls out of her hair and tame it into her signature twin-bun hairstyle.

As she perused the closet, only half-listening to the girls giggling downstairs, she couldn't help but admire dream-Usagi's wardrobe. If this was a dream, it was definitely hers, and though the trendy part of her closet tempted her with sparkling gowns and heels galore, she opted for comfort with leggings and an off the shoulder sweater. Feeling proud to have made her first actual I'm-a-mom-for-now decision. (Though she was definitely going to sneak in here later to try everything on.)

She was only just coming down the stairs when she started, slipping a little on the steps as the chime of a doorbell echoed loudly from the genkan.

She stood, frozen in place, gaze fixed on the door in dismay. It was hard enough to be in this bubble with Mamoru. They were trying to navigate parenthood without any warning whatsoever, but that this dream had been crafted to include the other people in her life was overwhelming in a way that Usagi couldn't understand.

The bell chimed a second time, and this time Mamoru stepped over the threshold, Kousagi propped on his hip in a way that made her heart melt as his gaze met hers.

He frowned, expertly adjusting Kousagi in his arms to keep her from pulling at his hair— _how the hell was he so good at this already?_ — as he flicked his gaze back onto the door.

"Who is it?"

Usagi shrugged, "I have _no_ idea."

Mamoru's frown deepened, "We should probably answer it, Usako."

Usagi thought about it for a second, slowly stepping down, before shaking her head. "Ummm, no," she replied. "I vote that we don't."

Mamoru rolled his eyes. "Well, I'm going to answer it."

Usagi gasped, scrambling down the stairs in the most ungraceful way possible, skidding in front of him just as he moved to twist the handle. He blinked, pulling back, startled as she pressed her back against the door, arms splayed wide across it to stop him.

"Mamo-chan," she hissed under her breath, maybe a little more dramatically than intended. "What if it's a monster, or like, a Cardian _within_ a Cardian? I can't transform, and neither can you."

He straightened, tilting his head to the side, hair falling all sexily into his eyes as he raised a brow. "Usako," he scolded, "you don't really believe that."

He was right. She didn't. But was it too much to ask that they only handle one thing at a time? And who actually _knew_ who was waiting for them beyond the doorway? Maybe it _was_ a monster. This dream could transform into a nightmare with the drop of a hat, and there was nothing they could do about it.

Mamoru sighed as the bell rang again, and he leaned over slightly, peering out of the frosted glass window that lined the door.

Kousagi giggled, babbling incoherently as she pulled at Mamoru's collar. He didn't even look away from the window, lifting his hand for Kousagi to grab onto instead as his brow furrowed.

"It's a girl with blue hair."

Usagi straightened, eyes widening. Girl with blue hair? _Definitely_ Ami.

Usagi sighed, relieved, though also nervous to see what this world had done to her friend. "Okay, well," Usagi began, pushing away from the door. "I guess we can answer it. It's definitely Ami-chan."

Mamoru glanced over at her, brow raised in question. "Ami-chan?"

Usagi nodded, biting her lower lip. There was _so_ much that she needed to tell him. After all of this was over, they needed to sit down and talk about what was waiting for them in real life. The search for the princess, the Senshi. He was obviously going to be coming to Senshi meetings now, so he had to know _everything—_

"Usako," he sighed that long-suffering sigh of exasperation. "You're getting stuck in your head again. Ami-chan?"

Usagi blinked, startled that he'd realized what she was thinking, and she blushed, twirling around to answer the door.

"Ami-chan is Sailor Mercury. She's super smart, maybe even smarter than _you,_ Mamo-chan. Don't worry; you're gonna love her."

His eyes widened, alarmed, "Wait, Usako—"

She didn't give him the chance to finish before she twisted the door handle and pulled it open wide enough that both she and Mamoru were visible in the entrance.

Ami, poised in the doorway, looked super adorable. She was a little older, her hair a teeny bit longer, with the cutest glasses perched on the bridge of her nose. Usagi couldn't help but feel giddy with excitement.

"Ami-chan!" she exclaimed happily, momentarily forgetting that this was dream-Ami and not real-life Ami. "Hi! How are you?"

Ami blinked, her furrowed brow smoothing out instantly, stiff posture relaxing, eyes brightening as she fixed them onto Usagi's smiling face. She laughed, shaking her head with an indulgent smile.

"I'm wonderful, Usagi-chan," she replied warmly. "How was your anniversary weekend?"

The question reminded Usagi that she was not in the real world, and she straightened, suppressing a grimace, laughing uncomfortably instead. "Umm, good! We did all the things, had all the fun; I wore Mamo-chan's shirt."

She heard a strangled gasp, and she was a hundred percent sure that if she turned around, Mamoru's face would be tinged red with embarrassment. Her smile only widened, and she took a step back, waving Ami in.

"Come in, Ami-chan!"

Dream-Ami must have been used to dream-Usagi's antics because the blunette simply chuckled as she stepped over the threshold, and her eyes slid onto Mamoru and Kousagi.

"Hello, little one," Ami greeted warmly, leaning forward to tickle Kousagi's toes. Her eyes slid up to Mamoru's face, and he smiled politely, if not nervously, in response to her smile. "Are you ready to go, Mamoru-san?"

Usagi's heart skipped, and she cringed because clearly dream-Mamo-chan was supposed to do something with dream-Ami, and they had no way of knowing what that was. If Ami had asked Usagi the question, she would have messed it all up, babbled crazily, and ended up worrying everyone instead.

Luckily, Mamoru was a pro at hiding his emotions and even better at being super vague with his words. "I'm so sorry, I meant to call you," he lied so smoothly, Usagi frowned. "It's been a little hectic here this morning, and I'm not sure I can go."

Ami's eyes widened sympathetically, and she glanced between Mamoru and Usagi with concern. "Oh, no. Are the kids okay? You should probably call Ito-Sensai to let him know you won't make it. Weren't you observing surgery today?"

The only thing that gave away Mamoru's surprise was how his brow creased ever so slightly, and the way he straightened, tensing his shoulders. Usagi frowned because, though she couldn't say for sure, it seemed like Mamoru had gone the doctor route in this dream world too. Apparently, so had Ami, which made complete sense.

Usagi, just because she was impulsive and if dream-Ami was anything like real-life Ami, she would _totally_ forgive a little bit of crazy, answered before Mamoru could. "Right, so Mamo-chan is watching a surgery cause you're both totally doctors in a hospital and all that?"

Ami started, blinking in surprise before turning back towards Usagi. "Um, well, not quite yet, Usagi-chan," she laughed. "Are you not feeling well?"

Usagi shook her head, "Sorry, Ami-chan," she apologized. "I'm just a frazzled mess with Kousagi teething and Chibiusa and all of that. I totally knew that you guys were not doctors yet and that Mamo-chan was going to do the thing at the hospital you work at, which is totally called... Um…"

Ami frowned, stepping towards her genuinely worried now. "Keio hospital, Usagi-chan," she replied, lifting her hand to press it against her forehead. "Are you sick?"

"She's alright, Ami-san," Mamoru interjected, and Usagi didn't miss the look of exasperation he shot her from behind Ami's back. "It's me, I'm a little out of sorts, and so I won't be able to—"

"He'll be ready in like, five minutes."

Mamoru's eyes widened, and Ami glanced between them, brow furrowing in confusion.

"Usako, I don't think—"

"It's okay, Mamo-chan," she interrupted with a dismissive wave. "I'm actually totally fine, and you look like you're okay too. I think you should go."

She wasn't sure what she'd been thinking at that moment. She just knew that she wanted to prove to herself that she could manage this. That Usagi Tsukino, who planned to go to school to be a social worker for disadvantaged children, could handle two kids that were supposed to be hers, all alone. Plus, who knew how long they were going to be stuck here? They needed to at least play the part while they figured out a way to escape.

Ami cleared her throat, blushing uncomfortably. "Um, I'm just going to step outside really quickly to call Ryo. He'll be home tonight," she said softly, her expression taking on a lovestruck edge that surprised Usagi. "I'll be right back, Mamoru-san, and you can let me know if you're coming in today."

The moment Ami stepped out of the house, Mamoru scowled. "Usako, what are you thinking?" he practically growled, which distracted Usagi for a second cause she liked when he grumbled. "I'm not leaving you here alone."

Usagi tsked, waving in what hoped was a flippant, confident way as she skipped forward and held her hands out for Kousagi. "I've _got_ this, Mamo-chan," she reassured, and at that moment, she truly believed it. "Look, this is sort of our life right now, and maybe you can figure out how to get us out of here."

He froze, lips parted on a sharp intake of breath for a moment before he exhaled slowly. Pressing his lips together with a resigned nod. "Fine," he sighed, deflated, gaze averted as he handed her Kousagi, who whimpered, distressed as she reached out for Mamoru. "I just don't want to leave you, Usako."

Usagi's expression fell, crestfallen, as she wrestled a squirming Kousagi in her grasp. "You don't think I can handle it?"

He frowned shaking his head, "No, it's not that—"

"Because I _can_ do this, Mamo-chan," she snapped, hurt constricting her throat a bit. "I know I sort of fell apart yesterday, but, _come on,_ I can't be expected to be all calm and collected and _okay_ with everything. I mean, I know that you are, but you're like, an anomaly, Mamo-chan. Regular people don't just—"

"Usako!" he snapped, interrupting her tirade. "It's not that!"

Usagi blinked, pressing her lips together, cheeks flushing as she attempted to adjust Kousagi, who was practically trying to leap from her arms to Mamoru. Seriously, why was this kid determined to prove her wrong?

"Well, then what is the problem, Mamo-chan?"

Mamoru sighed, raking his fingers through his hair. "I _want_ to stay here with you and the girls, Usako," he murmured. "It's not because I don't think you can't handle it. I've seen you in action; I know you can handle anything."

Usagi was at a loss for words, stunned, her heart fluttering in her chest, and she swallowed around the lump of emotion in her throat. "Well, okay then," she whispered, blinking back grateful tears. "We'll be here when you get back. Just trust me, okay?"

Mamoru's expression softened in a way that she could become very accustomed to, and he sighed, stepped towards them, and pulled them into his arms, much to a squealing Kousagi's delight.

"If you think you're going to be okay, I trust you, Usa," he replied softly, bending down to brush a kiss across her forehead. "I'll go and see if… if there's anything out of place."

Usagi nodded, feeling overwhelmed with emotion. "Okay," she whispered, snuggling closer, arms tightening around Kousagi for a moment longer before taking a deep breath, steeling her determination as she pulled away. "Also, now that I know how well you can hide your emotions and lie,I'm going to see right through you every time, Mamo-chan!" she teased. "So don't try and break up with me or anything, cause I won't believe you!"

Mamoru rolled his eyes, though he was smirking again, and she was feeling totally invincible. One hundred percent ready to take on this day. Of course, at that moment, there was a loud smash that echoed from the kitchen.

It was followed by a tentative, "Oops! Mama? Papa?"

Mamoru cursed under his breath, and Usagi cringed because hadn't they learned their lesson when they'd left Chibiusa alone yesterday?

Still, she'd been sure that she could handle it even though they'd found the kitchen upside down (how long had they been gone?!), and Mamoru had given her a mournful, reluctant look when she'd pushed him out the door to follow after Ami.

She'd been so sure. _So sure._ Except now, almost five exhausting hours later, she'd left Chibiusa alone once again, Kousagi safely tucked away in the playpen, to retreat into the darkened pantry, near tears, because she was an epic failure.

If she couldn't handle two little girls and keep a house clean, how would she do _anything_? How was she going to become a social worker? Would Mamo-chan… I mean, surely it was _too_ early to think about a family and that kind of thing, but would he even want to? When he came home to find the total and utter mess that she'd made?

Usagi whimpered, miserably wiping tears from her cheeks just as Chibiusa's little fingers peeped under the pantry door. "Mama, are you in there?"

Usagi sighed and took a deep breath before propelling herself onto her knees, twisting around, leaning up to open the door. A sliver of light pierced through the darkness, and Chibiusa popped her head through the opening, eyes wide and bright, a smile of delight, cute dimples and all, spread across her face.

"What are you doing, Mama?" she chimed, her voice like the tinkling of bells. "Are you hiding?"

Despite herself, Usagi smiled. "I totally am," she whispered conspiratorially, her tone hushed and playful. "But only because I heard that there were some teeny, tiny elves that were trying to steal my cookies. Do you want some?"

Chibiusa's eyes lit up, gasping with excitement. "You found papa's secret cookies?"

Usagi was surprised to hear that the secret junk food belonged to Mamoru, but she giggled, holding her arms out for Chibiusa, who promptly fell into her lap.

"What do you mean, _Papa's_ secret cookies?"

Chibiusa grinned sheepishly. "You always say we can only eat food that won't hurt our teeth, but I askedid papa with tears, so he lets me have some sometimes." Chibiusa's eyes widened, and she gasped, horrified by what she'd just confessed. "But it's a secret, Mama. Don't tell!"

Usagi choked on a bark of laughter, pulling the box from behind her and handed a biscuit to Chibiusa, who squealed in delight as she stuffed it into her mouth. "I won't say a word, I promise."

Chibiusa smiled a grateful, chocolatey smile, and Usagi stood, pulling the little girl to her feet. "Well, let's see if your sister is awake and ready to eat something, shall we?"

She'd never been more grateful for Mamoru's obsession with organization and lists than when she'd read through the ones he'd compiled the night before. It was the only reason that she knew that she had to mashup Kousagi's food before she ate it, though luckily, dream Usagi and Mamoru had some premade stuff ready to go.

Chibiusa laughed, nodding, "Oh, yeah. She's awake, Mama, and you will need to put her in the bath again."

Usagi froze, eyes widening in alarm. "What?" she gasped. "Why?!"

Chibiusa shrugged, skipping from the pantry. "Cause she made a huge stinky mess again."

Usagi could have cried. She was going to have to look over Mamoru's list again to make sure she wasn't missing something about diapers.

oOo

It was hours later, the house in worse shape than it had been the night before, the dinner she'd attempted to make a burnt, sloppy mess. Chibiusa was whining, appalled because she was hungry, but, according to her, she was never ever, _ever_ going to eat the yucky half-burnt food that Usagi had provided. Kousagi wasn't any better, busily throwing the mashed up concoction of vegetables that Usagi was trying to feed her right back in her face.

Usagi was near tears once again, feeling more exhausted than any of the times that she'd fought, Youma, Beryl, and Cardian _combined,_ when the front door opened and closed.

She tried to put on a brave face when Mamoru walked into the kitchen, she really, really did, but all she could imagine was what he saw right now. The house, the kitchen, the state of the girls, and _her._ And she started out with a smile, prepared to say something flippant that would give the impression that she was entirely in control despite the state of everything.

Of course, the moment their eyes met and his expression was all soft and doting like it had been when he'd pulled her and Kousagi into his arms this morning, she suddenly couldn't even fathom holding it together and instead of saying 'Hi, Mamo-chan! How was your day?' it sounded more like a blubbering mishmash of whimpers because she promptly burst into tears.

Instantly, he pulled her into his arms, and she sagged against him, sobbing into his shirt, unable to help herself.

"Usako, _hey,"_ he prodded softly, smoothing back her hair in the sweetest, gentlest way possible, and it only made her cry _harder._ "What happened?"

The question was so absurd, she let out a dry, almost hysterical bark of laughter through her tears.

"What do you mean, _what happened?"_ she choked, sniffling, pulling away to peer up into his face. "Didn't you see the _house?"_

Mamoru tilted his head to the side, studying her face, clearly perplexed. "Yes, I did have to walk through the living room to get here," he teased, the corner of his lips quirking up ever so slightly.

His reaction was freaking _annoying_ because why didn't he understand, and she sobbed again. "Mamo-chan!" she wailed and, God help her, but she actually stomped her foot. "I'm serious, did you see the girls? Did you see _me?"_

Mamoru chuckled, _literally chuckled,_ and Usagi gasped indignantly, contemplating hitting him because couldn't he see how bad she was at this? But then, he cupped her chin and tilted her face up, and her breath caught in her throat. She sniffled as he tenderly swiped away tears—probably some baby food, too—off her cheek with the pad of his thumb.

"Yeah, Usako," he replied smirking. "I can see you, too."

She whimpered, feeling miserable. Things were just so much easier when she was only failing at getting to the Crown for work on time. "I'm sorry, Mamo-chan," she rasped. "I'm so bad at this."

Before Mamoru could respond, Chibiusa tugged on Mamoru's shirt, breaking them apart and drawing their attention.

"Hi, Papa!" she chimed brightly, smiling, her face covered in chocolate, one odango askew. "Do you know what we did today? We played _all_ day, Papa. We played in the bathtub and with my dolls, and then Mama made the stove smoke, so we played outside. Then we played hide a go seeking in the dark, and Mama gives the best hugs. It was the best day ever, and Kousagi thinks so too cause I learnedid how to speak baby, and she _told_ me so."

Usagi blinked, wiping away the tears from her cheeks, stunned into silence. Kousagi squealed from her high chair, reaching out with carrot covered fingers. Mamoru moved toward her, and Usagi's eyes welled with tears again when Kousagi's tiny nose wrinkled, and she shook her head.

"Ma! Ma!"

Mamoru laughed, _actually laughed,_ not just a chuckle or a snort. He genuinely laughed, and Usagi started, eyes wide with shock when they met his, and she realized that she'd never actually heard him laugh before.

"I don't think there's anything you're bad at, Usako," he said warmly. "It sounds to me like you exceeded all expectations, just like I knew you would."

Usagi swallowed, heart brimming with love, and at that moment, she knew that even if they never got out of here, they were going to be just fine.

oOo

Usagi was an expert at tip-toeing now. All of her life, except for those rare times, when she channeled all of the grace of a Senshi in those do-or-die moments, she'd pretty much been like a bull in a china shop. This changed _very_ quickly when your ability to quietly exit a dark room is what determined whether you were going to have the rest of your evening to read manga or make out with your super sexy husband or if you were going to spend it coaxing a grumpy-faced, overtired baby back to sleep.

Luckily, Chibiusa had stopped fighting sleep weeks ago. She was already fast asleep in the big girl bed that she'd transitioned to when Minako had returned from her tour and gifted her the most ostentatious princess bed that she'd ordered specially made from Italy.

Still, Usagi peeked in on her, hovering over the threshold, pleased to see that she was fast asleep. Her little-cherub cheeks illuminated in the soft glow of a pink Ikea flower light that Mamo-chan had installed when she'd insisted that monsters lived under her bed, and she was going to have to sleep with them _forever._

Usagi partially closed the door with a sigh, her heart skipping a beat as she stepped back into the hallway.

Sometimes it was easy to forget that they'd been here for months. In the beginning, she'd urged Mamoru to research the web, look through medical journals, even study the stupid stars for answers because how did you escape a dream world created by a Cardian?

She wasn't sure, exactly, when she'd stopped asking Mamoru if he'd found anything new when he came home from long days working in a job he so clearly loved, and it was only then that she realized that he never brought it up, either.

Still, once in a while, she was afraid because she didn't know how long they had, and though the life outside of this one—their real-life— seemed distant now, she knew deep down that they'd have to find a way to get back to it.

Usagi swallowed, blinking back unbidden tears that welled in the corner of her eyes because she'd never counted on falling head over heels in love with her pretend children, too.

With a sigh that felt as heavy as the weight that was steadily growing bigger on her heart, she flicked the hallway light off and slipped into her bedroom, quietly closing the door behind her with a small, practically inaudible click.

"Did she wake up?"

Usagi swiveled around, some of the tension easing from her shoulders, turning towards Mamoru, who looked incredibly kissable in their bed, wearing just a KU t-shirt and his boxers, reading glasses perched on the tip of his nose with an ancient astronomy book open in his lap. This one didn't even have a cover, some older manuscript that Hiroshi had found in a thrift shop as he also shared a love for astronomy like Mamoru.

Despite her previous thoughts, Usagi smiled, pulling off her grown-up silk robe, tossing it onto the floor, much to Mamoru's dismay, before falling onto the bed with a loud, exaggerated sigh.

"Yep, out like a light. Both of them," she replied proudly. "Thank God it's an early bedtime too because we have that party at Mako-chan's tomorrow, and I don't want them to be cranky."

Mamoru frowned, putting his book and glasses aside, twisting onto his side, to look down at her. "What party?" he drawled, eyebrows raised. "I remember nothing about a party."

Usagi rolled her eyes, "Yes, you _do,_ Mamo-chan," she grumbled, exasperated. "It's Minako's going away party, because she'll be touring Europe for the next three months." Mamoru rolled his eyes this time, and Usagi scowled, poking him in the chest. "Stop that! Why do you guys pretend you don't like each other? You know the more you fight it, the more she's gonna try her hardest to embarrass you. You can't get all shell shocked every time she mentions sex, Mamo-chan."

Mamoru sighed, brows furrowed, "Okay, but, Usako," he replied plaintively. "Do you have to tell her _everything?"_

Usagi giggled, thoroughly amused at the appalled look on his face. "Yes, absolutely," she quipped brightly, without regret. " _Besides_ if it weren't for Minako, there's no way I would have ever known how to do that thing with—"

She squealed when he swept down, nipping playfully at her lips, fluttering his fingers along her sides in a way that he _knew_ was ticklish. She gasped, squirming beneath him, choking on bouts of laughter even as she pushed at his shoulders.

"Stop!" she laughed, "I surrender! I surrender!"

He stopped, lifting his head, smiling down at her, propping up on his elbow as he gently caressed the side of her face, and tucked a stray curl behind her ear.

It was like this all the time, and Usagi wished that she didn't have to break the sweet, tender intimacy of this moment that she knew would have escalated into something else if she'd only leaned up and kissed him like she typically would have. Her heart was heavy today, though, and, unlike usual, she was having a difficult time pushing her worries aside.

Her smile faded, and she knew the moment that Mamoru felt the shift in her demeanor, because he frowned.

"Mamo-chan," she whispered tentatively. "Have you dreamt of her since we've been here?"

When Mamoru had told her months ago that he'd been searching for the princess because she haunted his dreams, pleading for the very same crystal that the Senshi had been looking for, for some reason, it had bothered her. So she'd never brought it up again. But it suddenly felt important, and though it broke her heart, she knew they couldn't stay here.

Mamoru inhaled sharply, that guarded, unreadable mask that she hadn't seen in weeks falling into place. It had been a signature staple of his go-to expressions before, but now it was strange to see it after so long, and she realized she'd been spoiled with nothing but the carefree, open looks he graced her and the girls with.

He pulled away, sat up, and cleared his throat. "No," he replied quietly. "I haven't had a dream about her since we woke up here, Usako."

Usagi exhaled slowly, feeling nervous as she propped herself up on her elbows. "Mamo-chan," she began, her tone regretful. "How long do you think it will be before the Cardian is done with us?"

She hated the way he tensed, expression hardening as he raked his fingers through his hair. "I don't know," he snapped, though his expression softened as if he'd realized how terse he'd sounded. "It's a dream, Usako. So, I guess, technically, we could potentially live out an entire lifetime here before it ends."

Usagi's eyes widened, and she bolted upright with a gasp. "We can't live a lifetime here, Mamo-chan," she rasped, heart tangled in knots because she _knew_ how hard this was. She loved this place. It was her dream, after all, but she couldn't abandon the Senshi to the Cardians. They still needed to find the Princess _and_ the Crystal. They needed to go back. "We need to go back. You know that, right, Mamo-chan?"

He didn't say anything for a long moment, and the tension between them was practically unbearable when he finally nodded, barely sparing her a glance.

"Yes," he rasped. "I know." He cleared his throat, stiffly turning towards his side table to flick off the lamp. When the room was bathed in darkness, he turned away from her, settling on the edge of the bed. "We should probably get some sleep. Minako's party is early, and the girls will be up even earlier."

Usagi sat there, tears in her eyes, gaze fixed onto his outline in the dark. Her first inclination was to turn away from him angrily, settle into her pillow and forget she'd even brought it up. Instead, she sighed, understanding that Mamo-chan's heart was aching just as painfully as hers was. Carefully slipping under the blanket, she moved closer until her chest was flush against his back, curled her arm around his waist and buried her face between his shoulder blades.

"Mamo-chan," she whispered, though her voice seemed to echo loudly in the room's dark silence. "No matter what happens, I love you. I love you so much."

She felt the way the tension eased from his shoulders, and she wasn't surprised when he shifted, twisting around in her embrace, wordlessly curling his arms around her with a desperation that broke her heart. He hauled her against his chest, firm, tapered fingers weaving through her hair as he tenderly tucked her head beneath his chin.

"I love you, too, Usako," he whispered so quietly she almost didn't hear him. "I've only ever wanted to belong to you."

oOo

Makoto-chan lived in a small house near the bakery that she co-owned with her husband, Hiroshi-san. It was cozy, cute, with state of the art kitchen appliances, but, admittedly, the backyard was small, and at the moment, it was jam-packed with all of their closest friends. Including some of Minako's label acquaintances that insisted they go everywhere with her.

Her charismatic friend was in her element, and she absolutely loved the attention showered on her as a young, incredibly talented pop-idol. She was like a trendy ray of sunshine, flitting from one group of people to the next. Usagi watched her, amused, and couldn't help but note that everyone, including herself, seemed to be precisely where they wanted to be.

Deep down, she knew that this was what DreamWeaver wanted. The Cardian's only goal was more than likely to keep her appeased, unwilling to wake up from the world it had crafted from her deepest desires before it ultimately gathered their last vestiges of energy and brought it back to whoever it served.

Glancing sideways at Mamoru, she pushed the daunting thoughts aside, determined not to dwell on them, at least for today, just as Mako-chan, smiling brightly, sporting the cutest little green dress, swept forward to greet them.

"Hi, Tsukino family!" she exclaimed brightly, her demeanor exuberant, positively glowing with happiness. "You guys are here so early! Usagi-chan, I'm honestly and genuinely shocked."

Usagi rolled her eyes because even here, her punctuality was a running joke among her friends.

Mamoru chuckled. "Minako lied to her and told her the party started an hour ago."

This was entirely true, and Usagi was going to retort with something thoroughly witty when Chibiusa chose that moment to tear her little hand out of hers, squealing in delight as she launched herself into Makoto's arms.

"Obachan! Guess what! Guess what!" she exclaimed, giggling brightly. "I losted my first tooth! See?"

As Makoto eagerly inspected Chibiusa's mouth that she held wide open, little fingers pointing at the gap in her teeth, Ami, and quiet, always blushing Ryo, joined them, pulling Mamoru into a conversation about work. At the same time, he effortlessly cradled a sleeping Kousagi in a baby sling that he'd spent an hour watching tutorial videos on how to use correctly.

Usagi followed that conversation for about a whole five minutes—which was, in her opinion, no small feat— before she took a step back, eyes falling onto the cloth-covered table pressed against the white picket fence at the back of the yard, platters of Makoto's famous sweets beautifully displayed on every inch of it.

With an internal squeal of delight, Usagi decided to take that moment to herself to not-so-secretly gorge on the delectable delights, but, because she was an adult, she politely excused herself.

Mamoru knew precisely what she was going to do, though, because he cast a quick, amused glance her way, smirking in that way that he _knew_ made her heart skip a beat. She resisted the urge to stick her tongue at him before dashing around a couple that must have been Minako's friends because she didn't recognize them.

She'd just reached her destination, mouth-watering at the savory smells wafting from the table when she was promptly interrupted by the sound of a soft, slightly condescending chuckle she recognized very well.

"Always with the food for you, Odango Atama."

Usagi gasped, swiveling around with excitement, her hair whipping across her face with the movement. "Rei-chan!" She squealed. " _You're here!_ I didn't think you could come!"

Rei smirked, shrugging, crossing her arms as purple irises swept across the crowd. They fell onto Minako, who, as if she could sense the former Shinto Priestess's stare, glanced up from her conversation with a willowy, stern-faced man that must have been apart of her labels team. Minako's face lit up, eyes softening before she winked, blowing Rei a kiss.

Rei blushed, rolling her eyes in that exasperated, _what-am-I-going-to-do-with-you_ way that closely resembled the look that Mamoru expertly used on Usagi too, and she giggled, delighted, as Rei turned back towards her.

"Yes, well, managing Minako sometimes has its perks. One of them being that I get to choose which parties I attend," she replied, expression uncharacteristically softening. "I knew that I had to say goodbye before we left for Europe."

Usagi nodded slowly, smiling, though it didn't quite reach her eyes because she couldn't shake the foreboding feeling that she'd been trying to chase away for days. That lingering, gnawing feeling that niggled and pushed her not to forget, though she really, really wanted to. She didn't belong here, and she knew, without a doubt, that she wouldn't be here when the dream versions of her friends returned from Europe. The painful realization overwhelmed her in a way that she wasn't entirely able to hide.

Rei frowned, uncannily perceptive as her gaze swept over her. "Hey, Usagi-chan," she prodded softly, scrutinizing her face. "Are you feeling okay?"

Usagi shrugged, forcing her lips to curl up into a watery smile, though she feared that it looked more like an awkward grimace than anything. "I'm fine," she reassured weakly with a dismissive wave. "Just, _you know_ , regular stress with the girls and all of that."

Rei's frown deepened, clearly concerned as she took a tentative step closer. "Stress isn't something to dismiss so easily, Usagi," she admonished, eyes shrewdly sweeping over her face. "When I was a Miko, meditation was commonly taught and effectively used to mitigate that sort of thing." Leaning forward, Rei took her hands in hers, expression earnest as she met her gaze. "Do you want to try? It might help."

Usagi opened her mouth to protest, but Rei was already closing her eyes, squeezing her fingers in a way that left no room for argument. Usagi sighed, shrugging, because what was the harm in practicing a little bit of meditation? So, she nodded, ignoring the fact that they were standing on the edges of a crowded garden party, and closed her eyes.

"Okay, Usagi-chan," Rei began, her voice barely audible over the crowd's din. "Take a deep breath. In, then out."

Usagi felt a little ridiculous actually, but she did as she was instructed, breathing deeply. Inhaling and exhaling slowly.

"Clear your mind," she ordered, and Usagi resisted the urge to roll her eyes. "Usagi, trust me!" Rei snapped, clearly sensing her hesitation. "There's nothing but your breathing and the sound of my voice."

"Okay, okay," Usagi grumbled under her breath, inwardly hoping that nobody was staring at them as she continued to breathe in and out.

"Good, Usagi," Rei murmured softly. "Keep going. Focus on just breathing. Imagine inhaling everything that's been weighing on your mind like they're particles of energy, cycling it, and exhaling it back out."

Usagi's brow creased because _actually_ , it _was_ sort of helping. Was the sound of the crowd around her fading a little bit? She continued to breathe, in and out, digging deeper, as Rei calmly continued to instruct her on what she should concentrate on next.

She felt like they'd been at this for a while, all of the tension easing from her limbs, her lips going numb until, strangely, there was no sound at all. Even Rei's voice had faded to a dull, distant echo before disappearing entirely.

Usagi probably should have been alarmed, but she was so relaxed, stuck in a strange daze-like haze, that she didn't even question the fact that she could no longer feel her hands in Rei's. Or the slight breeze that had swept through Makoto's backyard. _Or_ the smell of Makoto's food that had been so enticing only moments ago. She felt kind of weightless like she was floating through a void of nothing, completely bathed in silence and darkness.

It felt kind of good, actually, so Usagi kept breathing, kept concentrating, kept _pushing_ until the tiniest pinprick of light pierced through the darkness, and she squinted, recoiling backward as it blinded her.

Something was wrong, and that calm, serene state that she'd been lulled into by Rei's voice was receding quickly, replaced with confusion and fear. She tried to move away from it, flailing her limbs in panic when the tiny ball of light suddenly, and quite _terrifyingly_ , widened, tearing open at an alarming rate before swallowing her whole.

Her eyes flew open, inhaling sharply on a startled, jarring breath, she wasn't at the party with Rei-chan holding her hands anymore. It took what seemed like several moments before her eyesight adjusted, the feeling coursing through her arms and legs tingling painfully when she realized that she could barely move.

She was constricted tightly, her body pressed against what she strongly suspected was Mamoru's, as a thin, skin-like sheathe coiled, vibrating around her body. It was difficult to move her head, but what she could see terrified her because crawling all over her was small, vibrating red thorns that pierced her skin, glowing neon red in the pod's darkness.

Usagi opened her mouth, her throat hoarse, dry like she'd swallowed a bucket full of sand. "Help!" she croaked, the effort it took to rasp out that single word sapping her energy. "Please!"

"Usagi! We hear you! We're coming!"

She wasn't sure who called out from the muffled confines of her prison, but she whimpered, too tired to struggle, too tired to curl into Mamoru pressed against her.

"Mars, fire, ignite!"

It was clearly Sailor Mars who screamed, her elemental attack conjuring the heat of a flame that enveloped the Cardian's pod for only a moment, before the creature, DreamWeaver, dodged it, cackling loudly as it pulled away.

Usagi wasn't claustrophobic, but she was terrified, draped in the pulsing thorns and skin-like material, and she couldn't handle it. Mustering every last bit of strength she possessed, Usagi screamed, the blood-curdling wail rippling through the pod around her. In retrospect, screaming was stupid, and it must have alerted the Cardian because her mouth instantly filled with fluid as she slammed her eyes closed, choking, _drowning._ In her terror, she willed herself back to sleep, away from the jarring horror of whatever the hell was happening out here.

The moment that she did, she tumbled back into the darkness, through the portal of light. Though she was flickering through whatever tunnel Rei's meditation had conjured when she gasped, inhaling on a strangled scream as her eyes flew open again, and she was back at Minako's party. She blinked, and she was in the pod, she blinked again, and she was standing in the garden, still trapped in the silence when she realized that everyone at Minako's party had turned to stare at her with stunned expressions.

She didn't understand why, because she still couldn't hear a thing, but all she knew was that something was really, _very_ wrong.

She was jolted into the dream world with more stability when Rei grasped her shoulders, fingers pressing into her skin as she violently shook her. The former priestess's lips were moving, but Usagi couldn't make out what she was saying.

It was only when Mamoru appeared in front of her, eyes wide with terror, cradling her face in his hands, that the horrifying silence disappeared with a painful pop and her heart jumped into her throat, and the silence was replaced with a heart-wrenching scream of terror. It took a moment before it registered that the scream was her own, and she sucked in a breath, snapping her lips shut. Her ears were ringing in the aftermath of everything that had just occurred.

She was dizzy suddenly like she'd just been at the very top of a roller coaster ride, and the cart had just dropped.

"Usako!" Mamoru cried hoarsely. "What is it? _What the hell happened?_ "

She opened her mouth to tell him, to explain what it was that she'd seen, but the blood drained from her face and it felt like all of the energy had been siphoned from her limbs. She wouldn't have been able to stay standing upright even if she wanted to, and her eyes rolled into the back of her head, and she tumbled into the dark, dreamless void of her dream world.

oOo

Usagi groaned as she steadily moved towards consciousness. She became acutely aware that her whole body felt heavy, sore like she'd spent months running a marathon, dodging obstacles without a break in pace.

Something warm pressed against her forehead, a soft caress on the curve of her cheek pulling away the last remnants of sleep, and her eyes flew open, lashes fluttering, vision momentarily blurred before they adjusted, and she was peering up into the concerned, beautiful perfection of Mamoru's eyes.

His expression crumpled with relief, and his hands trembled as they framed her face. " _Damn_ , Usako," he choked, his tone hoarse with emotion. "I can't tell you how relieved I am to see you open your eyes. _What the hell happened_?"

Usagi blinked, still feeling disoriented as she slowly craned her neck to the side, bewildered because she wasn't lying on the grass in dream-Makoto's garden. She was tucked under the blankets in their dreamworld bedroom. Her heart skipped a beat, realizing that she was mentally prefacing everything in her head with ' _dream'_ because, for a while, she'd allowed herself to _forget_.

It was such a painful realization, and it ripped through her with such heart-aching, piercing accuracy that she gasped, tears welling in her eyes, blurring her vision again. She tried to blink them back. Instead, they spilled, slipping listlessly down her cheeks.

"Usako," Mamoru rasped as he curled one arm around her waist, the other one pressed between her shoulder blades as he gently pulled her upright, tugging her into his lap. "Tell me what happened. _Please_ , Usa."

Usagi whimpered, curling up against him, tucking her knees beneath her chin, her head cradled in the crook of his collarbone. "I—" she whispered, trembling, pausing only because it occurred to her that she'd gone from Makoto's to here, and she needed to know where the girls were because they had to leave them. It was time to go home. "Kousagi and Chibiusa, Mamo-chan? _Where are they?_ "

Mamoru inhaled sharply, his grip tightening around her as if he were afraid to let her go. "They're with Mako-chan, Usako," he replied quietly. "You were _screaming._ You wouldn't stop, and it was like you couldn't see me, Usa, and then you just fell into my arms. I had to— I couldn't bring the girls home with us until I knew if—God, Usa. I just _thought—_ "

Usagi's breath hitched, and her lower lip trembled because she knew _exactly_ what Mamoru had assumed, and he was partially right. Mustering her energy, she pulled away, shifting her body and twisting her torso until she was straddling his lap instead of draped across it.

Her hands trembled as she lifted them to frame his face. "Mamo-chan," she began, her tone quivering with emotion. "I saw it. I woke up."

Mamoru blinked, cobalt blue eyes filled with confusion, and she watched, her heart breaking, as what she'd said slowly registered. He hissed through his teeth on a shocked inhale of breath. "What do you mean you _woke up_?"

Usagi swallowed, lower lip trembling because, _God_ , he sounded as devastated as she felt. "Rei-chan was showing me how to meditate, then I opened my eyes, and I was trapped beside you. In the Cardian's pod, Mamo-chan."

It had been a hell of a lot more jarring than her simple explanation, but she decided to spare Mamoru the horrific details, instinctively knowing that the news that she'd figured out how to wake up would be devastating enough.

He didn't say anything for a long, tension-filled moment, and Usagi's heart dropped when his expression became shuttered, guarded in that way that indicated he was pulling away from her.

"Okay, Usako," he replied, taking a deep breath before calmly lifting his hand to caress her face. "It's going to be alright. Just don't do that again."

Usagi gasped, stunned, her hands falling from his face in disbelief. Of all of the things he could have said at that moment, she hadn't quite expected that.

"Mamo-chan," she rasped, shaking her head. "We _have_ to do it again. You have to do it with me so we can go home."

His guarded expression faltered for a moment, and he swallowed, carefully lifting her off his lap before he turned, and calmly swung his legs over the edge of the mattress before standing. Usagi could only watch, wide-eyed from her kneeling position on the bed, as he strode towards the door before halting in his tracks.

He stood there quietly for a moment, back tense and turned towards her, before he swiveled back around, his expression hard and angry in a way that she hadn't seen since she'd first met him all those years ago when they were just kids.

"No," he rasped hoarsely. "It's too dangerous. You could have died. We're not doing it. We'll just have to _wait_."

Usagi exhaled slowly, shaking her head in confusion. "Wait for _what,_ Mamo-chan?" she snapped in response. "This is how we get out of here, and we have to. I— I _heard_ them. The Senshi. They're fighting to free us."

Mamoru was unmoved, and again, he shook his head. "We'll just have to wait for them to kill the Cardian, then."

Usagi gasped, frustrated that her typically unfailingly logical husband was suddenly being incredibly irrational. " _What?_ " she hissed. "That's insane! Mamo-chan, like you said, this is a dream, and we could be here for _years—"_

"So, what?" Mamoru interrupted, and Usagi sucked in a pained, horrified breath because that guarded look that he'd been sporting crumpled, and the sorrow etched into his expression tore at her heart. "Would it be so bad? To stay here? With the girls and me?"

Usagi was at a loss for words, feeling gutted, torn to pieces, tears spilling from her eyes because she wished with everything in her heart that this was the life meant for her, but it wasn't, and she _couldn't_ stay.

Mamoru choked on a dry, humorless laugh as he raked his fingers through his hair. "You asked me that first day when we woke up, Usako," he rasped, eyes glistening with tears. "You asked me whose dream this was," he paused, swallowing, shoulders slumping miserably. "It's _mine_. Do you know why I obsessively searched for the princess of my dreams? Do you know _why_ I fought youma's and broke into jewelry stores? It's because she was _all_ I had growing up."

Usagi couldn't breathe, frozen in place, fingers pressed to her lips in horror, her chest aching with heartfelt sorrow as she watched the only man she would ever love as he crumbled before her eyes. He fell to his knees at the edge of the bed, his elbows pressing into the mattress.

"Usako, _please,"_ he pleaded. "Those kids? The ones you talked about helping? I was one of those kids. I just want to belong to someone. I just want to belong to _you._ I want Chibiusa and Kousagi. _I want this_. Please stay here with me."

Usagi choked on a sob, scrambling from the bed, sheets tangling around her legs as she slipped from the mattress, falling to the floor in front of him with a dull thud as her knees collided with the hardwood.

"Mamo-chan," she whimpered, reaching for him. He recoiled backward, if anything even more devastated than he had been.

"Usako, please don't look at me like that," he pleaded hoarsely, dropping his head into his hands. "Please, I couldn't stand it if you pitied me."

The statement pierced through her sorrow and Usagi sucked in a breath, heartbroken that he could ever think that she would pity him. Wiping the tears from her face with the back of her hand, squaring her shoulders with determination, she slid forward until her knees pressed up against his. As tenderly as possible, she lightly settled her hands on his wrists.

"Mamo-chan, look at me," she demanded, her tone firm but filled with every ounce of compassion that she possessed. Her breath hitched when he lifted his head and his eyes were red-rimmed, filled with grief. Usagi exhaled a shuddering breath. "You think that this look on my face is _pity?"_ she rasped, lower lip trembling with barely restrained emotion. "It's _not_ pity, Mamo-chan. _I love you._ This is _love_." He opened his mouth as if to protest, but Usagi continued before he could speak. "And let me ask you a question," she demanded. "Before we woke up here, had you ever laid eyes on the Senshi in civilian forms? Spoken to them outside of battles against youmas and Cardians?"

Mamoru frowned, clearly confused by her line of questioning. "No, of course, I—"

"That's right," she interrupted curtly. "You hadn't. You met them here because this _isn't_ your dream. At least not completely. It's _mine._ "

He inhaled sharply, brow furrowed, utterly perplexed, and Usagi wanted to weep. She wanted to pull him into his arms and never let him go because she'd only just discovered that while she'd spent all this time knowing that they'd woken up in her dream world, it had never once occurred to Mamoru that this was something she would dream of, too.

Blinking back a new onslaught of tears, she leaned forward, cradling his face in her hands. This time _she_ was the one to wipe away his tears, her thumbs swiping along his cheekbones with all the gentleness that he'd always shown her.

"Furthermore," she whispered, voice breaking with emotion. "Regardless of which world we live in, this one, or the one in which we both work together to find the freaking princess and her ridiculously powerful crystal, you _do_ belong to me."

Her heart skipped a beat, brimming with hope because it was _working_. She was making an impression as she watched Mamoru's tortured expression lighten. His brow smoothed out as he seemed to regain control of his emotions, and the corner of his lips quirked up ever so slightly, though his shoulders were still slumped in defeat.

"I'm serious, Mamo-chan," she warned. "I'm like ridiculously possessive? I've been keeping it under control here by reminding myself that all the pretty girls you encounter aren't even real, but just prepare yourself for a whole ton of possessiveness! Unless… I mean, unless you don't like that? Then, in that case, I'm going to need you to disregard everything I've just said, and—"

She gasped in surprise when Mamoru curled his arms around her waist, hauling her against him so tightly she had to suck in a sharp breath as he buried his face in the crook of her neck.

"Usako," he rasped against her skin, though his tone was a little lighter. "You're ridiculous, you know that?" She opened her mouth to protest indignantly, but he continued before she could respond. "And just so you know, you're mine too…" he paused, and Usagi melted against him, sighing softly. "Can I just hold you like this for a minute?"

She let the way her body leaned into his, her hands tenderly smoothing back his hair from his face, answer his question. They sat there for longer than a minute, both internally wrestling with the weight of their loss, only the sound of their breathing piercing through the silence.

Usagi knew that he was ready when he sighed, tensing as if steeling his resolve before pulling back to look into her eyes. His expression was steady and filled with resignation. "Kousagi and Chibiusa?"

Usagi swallowed, doing her best to keep the devastation from her face, though she knew by the sorrow mirrored in Mamoru's eyes that she'd failed miserably.

"It'll only be harder if we see them again."

He nodded because he knew that she was right. If they stood up right now and made their way back to Makoto's to say goodbye to their children that didn't actually exist, but that they couldn't help but love with all their hearts, they'd never leave.

"We'll see them again, Mamo-chan," Usagi promised in a heartfelt whisper, and she _meant_ it.

Mamoru nodded, and Usagi leaned forward, eyelids fluttering shut as she softly brushed her lips across his, tangling her fingers through the soft, silken strands of hair at the nape of his neck. "Close your eyes and take a deep breath, Mamo-chan."

This time when she fell back into the tunnel, unwittingly revealed to her by Rei, she wasn't alone. And when she opened her eyes in that terrifying, thorn-filled pod, Mamoru fought with her. Falling from the pod that had been both her prison and the very best thing to ever happen to her, Usagi decided that her fate wasn't written in the cosmos or a dream crafted by a monster. No matter what her future held, she would carve her pathway to happiness with Mamoru by her side.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: HI, guys! I didn't abandon you, or this story! So, this AU ended up being HUGE, so this chapter is a bit ... lengthy. Sorry! Hopefully, you guys like how I incorporated this. The next chapter is Mix and Match, though I'm pretty sure I misinterpreted it? LOL Either way, only two more chapters to go! I know Usa/Mamo week is technically over, I will get the next chapter out to you guys soon!
> 
> This chapter was duel betaed by RogueAlly, then also NinjetteTwitch that... er who (sorry, Twitch!) is feeling a little bit better, and I'm glad, cause I heart her to the moon and back! 
> 
> Thank you, all of you, for being so awesome. This is the most supportive fandom in existence.


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